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WILLIAM   PENN 


THOMAS  B,  MACAULAY: 


BEING 


BRIEF  OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  CHARGES 


MADE 


MR.  MACAULAY'S  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND, 


AGAINST  THE 


CHARACTER  OF  WILLIAM  PENN. 
BY  TV.  E.  FORSTER. 


REVISED   FOR   THE   AMERICAN  EDITION  BY   THE   AUTHOR. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

HENRY    LONGSTRETH, 

No.  347,  MARKET  STREET. 

1850. 


WILLIAM  PENK, 

AND 

T.  B.  MACAULAY. 


THE  following  remarks  on  the  strictures  lately  made  by  a  po 
pular  writer  on  the  character  of  WILLIAM  PENN,  were  originally 
written  as  a  preface  to  a  new  edition  of  CLARKSON'S  LIFE  OF 
PENN,*  but  the  surprise  those  strictures  have  so  generally  caused 
seems  to  call  for  the  separate  publication  of  an  attempt  to  reply 
to  them. 

Of  the  nature  of  these  charges  hardly  any  one  will  be  ignorant. 
Mr.  Macaulay's  "  History  of  England"  has  throughout  England 
been  read  and  admired.  Whether  its  accuracy  will  stand  the 
test  of  critical  inquiry  the  future  public  will  decide ;  but  there 
can  be  no  question  that,  as  a  story  well  told  and  pleasant  to  listen 
to,  it  has  bewitched  the  ears  of  the  public  of  to-day,  and  that 
eventually  it  will  rank,  if  not  as  an  actual  history,  at  least  as  a 
most  attractive  and  eloquent  historical  romance. 

In  turning  over  its  pages,  so  full  of  descriptive  and  oratorical 
power,  we  feel  as  though  we  were  wandering  through  a  gallery 
of  pictures,  or  rather  in  quick  succession  they  flit  before  our  eyes, 
for  the  reader  has  no  work  to  do — is  merely  required  to  look, 
not  think — portraits  so  vivid,  features  so  striking,  that,  in  our 
admiration  of  the  artist's  talent,  we  care  not  to  inquire  whether 
they  are  really  likenesses,  true  copies  from  nature,  or  merely  the 
creations  of  his  own  fancy. 

Still,  when  a  figure  comes  before  us  such  as  Penn's,  which  we 

*  Memoirs  of  the  Public  and  Private  Life  of  William  Penn,  by  Thomas  Clark- 
son,  M.  A.  New  edition,  with  a  Preface,  in  reply  to  the  charges,  made  by  Mr. 
Macaulay  in  his  History  of  England,  by  W.  E.  Forster.  London  :  Charles  Gilpin, 
5,  Bishopsgate  Street  Without. 

3 


think  we  ought  to  know,  we  cannot  but  start  up  and  ask,  Can 
this  mean  and  repulsive  countenance,  in  real  truth,  belong  to  one 
whom  we  have  so  long  been  accustomed  to  regard  with  respect, 
we  may  almost  say  with  reverence  ? 

For  the  page  of  our  history  is  not  so  rich  in  illustrations  of 
nobility  and  worth,  that  we  can  afford  to  barter  away  any  one 
of  them,  not  even  in  exchange  for  all  the  fine  pictures  of  Mr. 
Macaulay ;  and  if  his  portrait  of  Penn  be  in  truth  a  caricature, 
the  talent  of  .the  painter  makes  it  all  the  more  necessary  to  at 
tempt  to  prove  that  it  is  not  a  likeness. 

,  That  it  is  not  the  portrait  by  which  Penn  is  generally  known, 
Miv  Mucamay  himself  allows : — "To  speak  the  whole  truth  con- 
"  cerning  him,"  he  says,  in  his  brief  sketch,  at  the  first  mention 
of  his  name,  "  is  a  task  which  requires  some  courage ;  for  he  is 
"  rather  a  mythical  than  a  historical  person.  Rival  nations  and 
"  hostile  sects  have  agreed  in  canonizing  him.  England  is  proud 
"  of  his  name.  A  great  commonwealth  beyond  the  Atlantic  re- 
"  gards  him  with  a  reverence  similar  to  that  which  the  Atheni- 
"  ans  felt  for  Theseus,  and  the  Romans  for  Quirinus.  The  re- 
"  spectable  society  of  which  he  was  a  member  honours  him  as 
"  an  apostle.  By  pious  men  of  other  persuasions  he  is  generally 
"  regarded  as  a  bright  pattern  of  Christian  virtue.  Meanwhile 
"admirers  of  a  very  different  sort  have  sounded  his  praises. 
*'  The  French  philosophers  of  the  eighteenth  century  pardoned 
"  what  they  regarded  as  his  superstitious  fancies  in  consideration 
'•  of  his  contempt  for  priests,  and  of  his  cosmopolitan  benevolence, 
"  impartially  extended  to  all  races  and  to  all  creeds.  His  name 
"  has  thus  become,  throughout  all  civilised  countries,  a  synonyme 
"  for  probity  and  philanthropy."* 

But  is  not  this  verdict  of  posterity,  so  unanimous  and  so  fa 
vourable,  which  the  historian  thus  records,  not  because  he  agrees 
with  it,  but  rather  to  enhance  his  own  valour  in  daring  to  dispute 
it,  in  itself,  by  the  very  fact  of  its  existence,  strong  argument  in 
behalf  of  its  own  truthfulness  ?  for  man  is  not  so  prodigal  ofi 
praise  as  to  bestow  it  on  his  fellow  without  a  reason.  If  a  repu 
tation  outlives  the  power  of  its  possessor,  there  is  good  ground 
to  believe  it  is  the  reward  of  his  deeds.  Time  tests  us  by  what 

*  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  507.  The  first  edition  of  Macaulay  is  the  edition  referred 
to  throughout  this  pamphlet. 


we  are,  not  seem  to  be :  only  the  fruitful  plant  escapes  its  scythe ; 
the  weed,  however  rank,  is  relentlessly  mown  down.  Many  a 
world-wide  renown  follows  its  owner  to  the  grave ;  the  bubble 
bursts  when  the  breath  leaves  him  who  has  blown  it ;  but  it  is 
hard  to  find  an  instance  in  which  after  ages  have  wasted  honour 
on  the  worthless — lavished  laurels  where  contempt  wrould  have 
been  fitting.  Posterity  pays  rather  than  gives — is  just  more  than 
generous.  A  man  who  was  persecuted  during  his  lifetime,  then 
slandered  and  hated  by  not  a  few,  but  who,  now  that  almost  two 
centuries  have  elapsed,  is  thus  honoured  and  revered  by  all  creeds 
and  parties,  may  perchance  be  what  Mr.  Macaulay  chooses  to 
term  a  "  mythical  person,"  but  if  so,  there  is  at  least  a  meaning 
in  the  myth,  for  in  fact  no  myth  can  be  formed  out  of  a  false 
hood  ;  the  very  condition  of  its  existence  is  that  there  must  be 
truth  and  worth  in  its  subject :  it  is  only  the  heroes  of  history 
whom  she  deigns  to  clothe  with  a  mythical  garment ;  the  halo, 
however  misty,  proves  that  within  must  shine  a  light. 

Mr.  Macaulay,  however,  it  is  plain,  does  not  believe  in  Penn, 
not  even  as  the  subject  of  a  myth.  He  is  a  historical  sceptic,  or 
at  best  a  rationalist.  See  how  ingeniously  he  tries  to  undermine 
the  fabric  of  this  mythical  renown : — "  Nor  is  this  reputation," 
he  adds,  "  altogether  unmerited.  Penn  was  without  doubt  a  man 
"  of  eminent  virtues.  He  had  a  strong  sense  of  religious  duty, 
"  and  a  fervent  desire  to  promote  the  happiness  of  mankind.  On 
"  one  or  two  points  of  high  importance  he  had  notions  more  cor- 
"  rect  than  were  in  his  day  common,  even  among  men  of  enlarged 
"minds;  and,  as  the  proprietor  and  legislator  of  a  province, 
"  which,  being  almost  uninhabited  wrhen  it  came  into  his  posses- 
"  sion,  afforded  a  clear  field  for  moral  experiments,  he  had  the 
"  rare  good  fortune  of  being  able  to  carry  his  theories  into  prac- 
"  tice  without  any  compromise,  and  yet  without  any  shock  to 
"  existing  institutions.  He  will  always  be  mentioned  with  honour 
"  as  the  founder  of  a  colony,  who  did  not,  in  his  dealings  with  a 
"  savage  people,  abuse  the  strength  derived  from  civilisation,  and 
"  as  a  lawgiver,  who,  in  an  age  of  persecution,  made  religious 
"  liberty  the  corner-stone  of  a  polity.  But  his  writings  and  his 
"  life  furnish  abundant  proofs  that  he  was  not  a  man  of  strong 
"sense.  He  had  no  skill  in  reading  the  characters  of  others. 
"  His  confidence  in  persons  less  virtuous  than  himself  led  him 


"  into  great  errors  and  misfortunes.  His  enthusiasm  for  one 
"  great  principle  sometimes  impelled  him  to  violate  other  great 
"  principles  which  he  ought  to  have  held  sacred.  Nor  was  his 
"  integrity  altogether  proof  against  the  temptations  to  which  it 
"  was  exposed  in  that  splendid  and  polite,  but  deeply  corrupted 
"  society,  with  which  he  now  mingled.  The  whole  court  was  in 
"  a  ferment  writh  intrigues  of  gallantry  and  intrigues  of  ambition. 
"  The  traffic  in  honours,  places,  and  pardons  was  incessant.  It 
"  was  natural  that  a  man  who  was  daily  seen  at  the  palace,  and 
"  who  was  known  to  have  free  access  to  majesty,  should  be  fre- 
"  quently  importuned  to  use  his  influence  for  purposes  which  a 
"  rigid  morality  must  condemn.  The  integrity  of  Penn  had  stood 
"  firm  against  obloquy  and  persecution.  But  now,  attacked  by 
"  royal  smiles,  by  female  blandishments,  by  the  insinuating  elo- 
"  quence  and  delicate  flattery  of  veteran  diplomatists  and  cour- 
"  tiers,  his  resolution  began  to  give  way.  Titles  and  phrases 
"  against  which  he  had  often  borne  his  testimony  dropped  occa- 
"  sionally  from  his  lips  and  his  pen.  It  would  be  well  if  he  had 
"  been  guilty  of  nothing  worse  than  such  compliances  with  the 
"  fashions  of  the  world.  Unhappily  it  cannot  be  concealed  that 
"  he  bore  a  chief  part  in  some  transactions  condemned,  not  merely 
"  by  the  rigid  code  of  the  society  to  which  he  belonged,  but  by 
"  the  general  sense  of  all  honest  men.  He  afterwards'  solemnly 
"  protested  that  his  hands  were  pure  from  illicit  gain,  and  that 
"  he  never  received  any  gratuity  from  those  whom  he  had  obliged, 
"  though  he  might  easily,  while  his  influence  at  court  lasted,  have 
"  made  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  pounds.  To  this  asser- 
"  tion  full  credit  is  due.  But  bribes  may  be  offered  to  vanity  as 
"  well  as  to  cupidity,  and  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that  Penn  was 
"  cajoled  into  bearing  a  part  in  some  unjustifiable  transactions, 
"  of  which  others  enjoyed  the  profits."* 

It  is  difficult  not  to  admire  the  skill  with  which,  in  this  passage, 
the  writer  glides  from  praise  to  contempt,  ingeniously  giving  the 
impression  that  the  praise  is  but  in  complaisance  to  the  probable 
prejudices  of  his  reader,  the  blame  his  own  courageous  convic 
tion  ;  and  yet,  if  the  two  opinions  be  contrasted  together,  they 
can  hardly,  all  allowance  being  given  for  the  inconsistency  of 
human  nature,  be  made  to  fit.  "  A  sense  of  religious  duty"  can 

*  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  508. 


scarcely  be  called  "  strong"  which  does  not  save  its  possessor 
from  "  transactions  condemned  by  the  sense  of  all  honest  men," 
even  though  "  bribes  be  offered  to  his  vanity ;"  and  it  is  strange 
that  one  "  whose  life  furnishes  abundant  proof  that  he  was  not  a 
"  man  of  strong  sense"  should  not  only  have  "  notions  on  points 
"  of  high  importance  more  correct  than  were  in  his  day  common 
"  even  among  men  of  enlarged  minds,"  but  should  be  "  able  to 
'•  carry  his  theories  into  practice,"  and  practice  so  successful 
that  "  he  will  always,"  excepting  of  course  by  Mr.  Macaulay, 
"  be  mentioned  with  honour." 

But  leaving  for  the  present  this  preliminary  sketch,  which,  con 
sisting  merely  of  assertion  without  attempt  at  proof,  does  not  in 
deed  of  itself  need  notice,  except  as  evidence  of  the  animus  of  its 
author,  we  must  pass  on  to  the  special  charges  upon  which  this 
general  character  appears  to  be*"  grounded. 

The  first  charge  is  in  connexion  with  the  infamous  profit  to 
which  the  maids  of  honour  of  James's  court  succeeded  in  turning 
Monmouth's  rebellion,  by  the  bargain  which  they  drove  with  the 
friends  of  the  young  girls  of  Taunton,  who,  in  the  Duke's  march 
through  that  town,  had  presented  him  with  a  standard.  Mr. 
Macaulay's  statement  is  as  follows.  After  mentioning  the  thou 
sand  guineas  which  the  Queen  Mary  of  Modena  had  cleared  on 
a  cargo  of  rebels  sentenced  to  be  transported,  he  adds :  —  "  We 
"  cannot  wonder  that  her  attendants  should  have  imitated  her 
"  unprincely  greediness  and  her  unwomanly  cruelty.  They  ex- 
"  acted  a  thousand  pounds  from  Roger  Hoare,  a  merchant  of 
"  Bridgewater,  who  had  contributed  to  the  military  chest  of  the 
"  rebel  army.  But  the  prey  on  which  they  pounced  most  eagerly 
"  was  one  which  it  might  have  been  thought  that  even  the  most 
"  ungentle  natures  would  have  spared.  Already  some  of  the  girls 
"  who  had  presented  the  standard  to  Monmouth  at  Taunton  had 
"  cruelly  expiated  their  offence.  *  *  Most  of  the 

"  young  ladies,  however,  who  had  walked  in  the  procession  were 
"  still  alive.  Some  of  them  were  under  ten  years  of  age.  All 
"had  acted  under  the  orders  of  their  schoolmistress,  without 
"  knowing  that  they  were  committing  a  crime.  The  Queen's 
"  maids  of  honour  asked  the  royal  permission  to  wring  money 
"  out  of  the  parents  jof  the  poor  children ;  and  the  permission  was 
"  granted.  An  order  was  sent  down  to  Taunton  that  all  these 


8 

"  little  girls  should  be  seized  and  imprisoned.  Sir  Francis  Warre, 
"  of  Hestercombe,  the  Tory  member  for  Bridgewater,  was  re- 
"  quested  to  undertake  the  office  of  exacting  the  ransom.  He 
"  was  charged  to  declare  in  strong  language  that  the  maids  of 
"  honour  would  not  endure  delay,  that  they  were  determined  to 
"prosecute  to  outlawry,  unless  a  reasonable  sum  were  forth- 
"  coming,  and  that  by  a  reasonable  sum  was  meant  seven  thou- 
"  sand  pounds.  Warre  excused  himself  from  taking  any  part  in 
"  a  transaction  so  scandalous.  The  maids  of  honour  then  re- 
"  quested  William  Penn  to  act  for  them ;  and  Penn  accepted  the 
"  commission.  Yet  it  should  seem  that  a  little  of  the  pertinacious 
"  scrupulosity  which  he  had  often  shown  about  taking  off  his  hat 
"  would  not  have  been  altogether  out  of  place  on  this  occasion. 
"  He  probably  silenced  the  remonstrances  of  his  conscience  by 
"  repeating  to  himself  that  none  of  the  money  which  he  extorted 
"  would  go  into  his  own  pocket ;  that  if  he  refused  to  be  the  agent 
"  of  the  ladies  they  would  find  agents  less  humane ;  that  by  com- 
"  plying  he  should  increase  his  influence  at  the  court ;  and  that 
"  his  influence  at  the  court  had  already  enabled  him,  and  might 
"  still  enable  him,  to  render  great  services  to  his  oppressed  breth- 
"  ren.  The  maids  of  honour  were  at  last  forced  to  content  them- 
"  selves  with  less  than  a  third  part  of  what  they  had  demanded."*1 

This  is  the  story,  and  one  disclosing  more  centemptible  cruelty 
it  is  scarcely  possible  to  imagine.  Innocent  girls,  whose  sole 
offence  was  obedience  to  the  orders  of  their  mistress,  thrown  into 
a  dungeon  in  order  that  maids  of  honour  may  exact  a  ransom 
for  their  liberty — the  scrupulous  Quaker  acting  as  broker  in  this 
vile  speculation,  accepting  the  commission  which  the  Tory  cava 
lier  had  refused :  if  this  story  be  as  he  tells  it,  Mr.  Macaulay 
may  well  say  that  Perm's  integrity  was  no  proof  against  "  female 
blandishment."  A  transaction  so  mean,  so  hypocritical,  would 
indeed  deserve  the  opprobrium  "of  all  honest  men."  No  defence 
could  be  attempted  of  a  deed  which  no  possible  motive  could 
justify,  and  the  reader  could  only  wonder  what  can  be  Mr.  Ma- 
caulay's  definition  of  the  "religious  duty,"  with  "a  strong  sense" 
of  which  he  declares  its  perpetrator  to  have  been  endued. 

Doubtless  the  charge  is  bad  enough,  but  now  what  are  the 
proofs  ? 

*  Macaulay,  vol.  i-  p.  656. 


The  only  one  of  the  authorities  Mr.  Macaulay  quotes  in  refe 
rence  to  this  case,  in  which  there  is  any  allusion  to  Penn,  is  the 
following  letter  from  the  Earl  of  Sunderland,  the  then  Home  Se 
cretary,  a  copy  of  which  is  in  the  State  Paper  Office : — 

«  Whitehall,  Febry.  l'3th,  1685-6, 

"  MR.  PENNE — Her  Majties  Maids  of  Honour  having  acquainted  me, 
that  they  designe  to  employ  you  and  Mr.  Walden  in  making  a  compo 
sition  with  the  Relations  of  the  Maids  of  Taunton  for  the  high  Misde 
meanor  they  have  been  guilty  of,  I  do  at  their  request  hereby  let  you 
know  that  her  Majty  has  been  pleased  to  give  their  Fines  to  the  said 
maids  of  Honor,  and  therefore  recommend  it  to  Mr.  Walden  and  you  to 
make  the  most  advantageous  composition  you  can  in  their  behalfe. 
"  I  am,  Sir,  your  humble  servant, 

"  SUNDERLAND  P."* 

This  letter,  to  which  no  reply  can  be  found  either  in  the  State 
Paper  Office  or  elsewhere,  is  the  sole  proof  upon  which  the 
charge  is  grounded :  there  exists  no  collateral  evidence  whatever 
confirming  its  receipt  by  Penn,  much  less  his  acceptance  of  its 
commission :  it  is  not  even  certain  that  it  was  addressed  to  him. 
The  address  in  the  State  Paper  Office  is  not  "William  Penn, 
Esq.,"  nor  William  Penn  at  all,  but  plain  Mr.Penne,  and  there 
fore  it  is  quite  possible  that  it  was  intended  for  a  certain  "  George 
Penne,"t  who  it  appears  was  instrumental  in  effecting  the  release 
from  slavery  of  a  Mr.  Azariah  Pinney,  a  gentleman  of  Bettes- 
combe,  near  Crewkerne,  in  Somersetshire,  whose  sentence  to 
death  had  been  commuted  to  transportation.^ 

But  allowing  that  Sunderiand's  letter  was  addressed  to  William 
Penn,  what  does  it  prove  ?  Not  that  he  undertook  the  office  in 
question,  but  merely  that  "  the  maids  of  honour  having  ac 
quainted"  the  Secretary  "  that  they  designed  to  employ  him  and 
"  a  Mr.  Walden,  he  therefore  recommended  it  to  Mr.  Walden  and 
"  to  him  to  make  the  most  advantageous  composition  they  can  in 
"  their  behalf." 

Mark,  Sunderland  rests  his  recommendation  not  on  any  pre- 

*  State  Paper  Office.  Letter  Book,  1679-1688.  Domestic  Various.  No.  629, 
p.  324. 

t  Possibly  the  same  G.  Pen  mentioned  by  Pepys  in  his  "Diary,"  April  4,  1660. 

t  See  Robert's  Life  of  Monmouth  (vol.  ii.  p.  243,)  whose  authority  is  family  let- 
ters  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  Pinney's  descendants. 


10 

vious  communication  between  himself  and  Penn,  nor  between 
Penn  and  the  maids  of  honour,  but  merely  on  their  "  design  to 
employ"  him  and  another ;  how  then  can  we  tell  that  Penn  was 
even  privy  to  such  design  ?  The  case  of  the  Taunton  maids  ex 
cited  no  little  interest  both  at  the  time  and  since,  but  neither  in 
the  official  documents  connected  therewith,  nor  in  any  general 
history,  nor  in  the  local  records,  is  there  any  other  allusion  to 
Penn,  nor  is  there  any  mention  whatever  of  the  matter  in  either 
his  own  letters  or  biography.  ( 

Surely  then,  even  on  his  own  authority,  Mr.  Macaulay's  posi 
tive  assertion  that  "  the  maids  of  honour  requested  William  Penn 
"  to  act  for  them,"  and  that  he  "  accepted  the  commission,"  is  an 
unwarrantable  assumption.  i 

There  is,  however,  one  historian,  and  that  too  a  contemporary, 
almost  an  eye-witness,  by  whom  this  assertion  is  not  confirmed 
but  contradicted.  Oldmixon,  in  his  History,  gives  the  following 
account  of  the  transaction : — "  The  Court  was  so  unmerciful,  that 
"  they  excepted  the  poor  girls  of  Taunton,  who  gave  Monmouth 
"  colours,  out  of  their  pretended  pardon,  and  every  one  of  them 
"  was  forced  to  pay  as  much  money  as  would  have  been  a  good 
"  portion  to  each  for  particular  pardons.  This  money,  and  a 
"  great  deal  more,  was  said  to  be  for  the  maids  of  honour,  whose 
"  agent  Brent,  the  Popish  lawyer,  had  an  under  agent,  one  Crane 
"  of  Bridgewater,  and  'tis  supposed  that  both  of  them  paid  them- 
"  selves  very  bountifully  out  of  the- money  which  was  raised  by 
"  this  means,  some  instances  of  which  are  within  my  knowledge."* 
Now,  though  it  may  be  alleged  that  Oldmixon  is  by  no  means  an 
infallible  guide,  not  bearing  a  very  high  character  for  accuracy, 
yet  in  a  case  like  this,  some  of  the  circumstances  of  which  he 
declares  to  have  been  "  within  his  own  knowledge,"  which  may 
be  well  believed,  seeing  he  was,  as  Mr.  Macaulay  says,  when 
quoting  him  in  reference  to  Monmouth's  entrance  into  Taunton, 
"  then  a  boy  living  very  near  the  scene  of  these  events,"!  in  fact 
at  Bridgewater  itself,!  so  that  he  was  Crane's  fellow-townsman, 
his  testimony  would  at  least  seem  worthy  of  notice. 

*  Oldmixon,  vol.  ii.  p.  708. 

t  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  580.  Also  Mackintosh's  History  of  the  Revolution,  pp.  13, 
21,  24. 

\  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  612. 


11 

Moreover,  Penn  having  been  his  personal  acquaintance,*  had 
he  really  acted  as  broker  in  this  business,  Oldmixon  could  scarcely 
have  been  ignorant  of  the  fact.  Still,  strange  as  it  may  seem, 
Mr.  Macaulay,  who  often  quotesf  him,  in  one  case  by  himself,^ 
and  even  gives  him  as  an  authority§  in  an  earlier  part  of  this 
very  story  of  the  Taunton  maids,  completely  passes  him  by,  when 
his  evidence  would  thus  disturb  his  hypothesis  of  Penn's  hypo 
crisy.  This  account  also  has  some  slight  collateral  support, 
which  Mr,  Macaulay's  has  not,  for  we  find,  from  a  petition  in  the 
State  Paper  Office  from  one  suspected  of  having  been  engaged 
in  the  rebellion,  endorsed  Brent,  and  also  from  a  passage  in  the 
second  Lord  Clarendon's  Diary,  wherein  he  says  that  a  "  Lady 
"  Tipping  had  offered  Mr.  Brent  £200  to  get  a  noli  prosequi"\\ 
that  "  this  vile  wretch,"  as  OldmixonH  calls  him,  was  an  acknow 
ledged  pardon-broker,  and  therefore  a  very  probable  agent  for 
these  maids  of  honour  to  employ.  Again,  the  wording  of  the 
warrant,  dated  March  11,  1686-7,  is  worth  attention.  It  states, 
that  it  is  "  his  Majesty's  pleasure  that  these  maids,  or  their  rela- 
"  tions  and  friends,  who  have  compounded  or  shall  compound, 
"  with  the  agent  employed  by  her  Majesty's  said  maids  of  honour, 
"  shall  not,"**  &c.  The  word  agent  is  applicable  enough  to 
Oldmixon's  version,  viz.,  that  Brent  was  the  agent  of  the  maids 
of  honour  and  Crane  merely  his  sub-agent,  but  if  Sunderland's 
recommendation  had  been  carried  out,  and  both  Penn  and  Walden 
employed,  the  plural  number  would  probably  have  been  used. 

But  granting,  which  we  think  the  reader  will  hardly  be  dis 
posed  to  do,  that  Brent's  agency  is  an  invention  of  Oldmixon, 
and  Penn's  interference  is  proved,  even  then,  as  is  stated  by  a 
previous  historian,!!  "  the  transaction  presents  two  phases,"  and 
Penn  might  doubtless  have  "  thought  not  of  the  lucre  of  the  traf- 
"  fickers,  but  of  the  mercy  which  they  sold."  In  our  utter  igno- 

*  Oldmixon's  Account  of  British  Colonies,  printed  1708;  quoted  in  Proud's  His 
tory  of  Pennsylvania,  vol.  i.  pp.  244-486. 

t  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  pp.  588,  596,  602-4-5,  635,  &c. 

t  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  593. 

§  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  586. 

I!  Clarendon's  Diary,  March  19,  1687-8. 

^r  Oldmixon^p.  708. 

**  State  Paper  Warrant  Office  Book,  ii.  219. 

tt  Roberts,  vol.  ii.  p.  241. 


12 

ranee  of  all  the  circumstances  which  preceded  his  interference, 
allowing  he  did  interfere,  why  should  we  not  suppose  that  the 
relations  of  the  girls,  who  it  must  be  remembered  had  been  seized 
and  their  ransom  allotted  before  the  date  of  Sunderland's  letter, 
had  applied  to  Penn  as  a  man  of  influence,  honesty,  and  benevo 
lence,  to  intercede  in  their  behalf,  and  that  the  Secretary's  com 
mission  was  in  consequence  of  such  application,  and  the  diminu 
tion  of  the  ransom  "  to  less  than  one-third  of  the  original  demand"* 
his  reward  for  his  trouble.  This  view  of  the  matter  Mr.  Ro 
berts,  the  writer  above  quoted,  we  observe  takes,  and  though  also 
an  assumption,  it  is  no  ways  more  gratuitous  than  Mr.  Macau- 
lay's,  and  has  at  least  the  advantage  of  being  in  accordance  with 
Penn's  general  character.  In  one  expression  which  he  uses,  Mr. 
Macaulay  seems  himself  to  lean  to  this  interpretation,  when  he 
states  that  the  Quaker  probably  "  silenced  the  remonstrances  of 
"  his  conscience  by  repeating  to  himself  that  if  he  refused  to  be 
"  the  agent  they  would  find  others  less  humane,"  but  in  this  case 
he  would  not  have  designated  the  commission  which  he  says 
Penn  accepted  as  a  "  scandalous  transaction,"  nor  called  it  an 
"  office  of  exacting  ransom."  These  terms,  together  with  his 
previous  remarks,  show  clearly  enough  that  he  chooses  to  con 
sider  Penn  as  having  been,  not  an  intercessor  for  mercy,  but  an 
abettor  of  cruelty,  pandering  to  oppression  in  order  that  his  vanity 
might  be  pampered. 

Possibly  Mr.  Macaulay  may  conceive  that  no  one,  not  even  a 
Quaker,  gifted  with  "  a  strong  sense  of  religious  duty,"  can  with 
stand  the  "  blandishments"  of  a  maid  of  honour,  but  at  least  he 
should  have  satisfied  himself  that  these  blandishments  were  used, 
before  he  gives  this  least  probable — this  most  uncharitable  inter 
pretation  of  a  fact,  which,  though  asserted  by  himself  as  un 
doubted,  is  in  itself  most  doubtful,  contradicted  by  the  testimony 
of  a  competent  contemporary — the  sole  evidence  in  support  of 
which  is  a  commission  \vhich  we  can  not  be  sure  was  addressed 
to,  and  which  we  have  no  reason  to  believe  was  accepted  by, 
the  party  whom  he  accuses. 

If  by  "  mythical"  Mr.  Macaulay  means  fabulous,  distorted,  ex 
aggerated,  it  is  now  easy  to  understand  why  he  calls  Penn  a 

*  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  656. 


13 

*  mythical  person."  He  would  indeed  be  such  if  his  character 
depended  on  his  description ;  for  assertions  thus  established,  de 
ductions  thus  inferred,  may  make  up  a  romance,  or,  if  men  choose 
to  believe  them,  even  constitute  a  myth,  but  can  scarcely  claim 
the  title  of  history. 

Dismissing  the  maids  of  honour,  the  next  mention  of  Penn  by 
Mr.  Macaulay,  and  therefore  the  next  insinuation  against  his 
character,  for  he  never,  after  the  first  introduction  of  his  name, 
alludes  to  him  except  disparagingly,  is  in  his  description  of  the 
legal  murders  of  Gaunt  and  Cornish.  The  manner  in  which  he 
describes  Penn's  presence  at  these  executions,  "  for  whom,"  he 
says,  "  exhibitions  which  humane  men  generally  avoid  seem  to 
"  have  had  strong  attraction,"*  affords  a  striking  instance  of  his 
unaccountable  determination  to  give  the  worst  possible  colour  to 
every  one  of  his  acts.  He  seems  to  suppose  that  his  motive  must 
have  been,  like  Selwyn's,  a  passion  for  seeing  hanging,  or  at  best 
an  idle  curiosity.  Clarkson's  remarks  and  quotations  from  Bur- 
net,  who  notoriously  disliked  him,  show  that  it  was  much  more 
probably  a  wish  to  be  able  to  make  a  true  report,  and  therefore 
an  effective  remonstrance  to  the  King ;  and  enable  us  to  pass  on 
to  another  charge,  upon  which  also  it  is  not  needful  to  dwell,  for 
though  a  direct,  it  is  by  no  means  a  dangerous  attack,  Mr.  Ma 
caulay  himself  providing  the  defence,  the  statement  he  makes  in 
his  text  being  contradicted  by  the  authority  he  quotes  in  its  mar 
gin.  In  his  description  of  the  efforts  which  James  made,  towards 
the  end  of  his  reign,  to  win  the  aid  of  the  Dissenters  in  his  strug 
gles,  he  gives  the  case  of  Kiffin,  a  London  Baptist,  of  high  influ 
ence,  both  from  his  wealth  and  worth.  Two  of  Kiffin's  grand 
sons  had  been  executed,  or  rather  murdered,  by  sentence  of  the 
Bloody  Assizes ;  no  wonder,  therefore,  that,  justly  regarding  the 
King  with  personal  as  well  as  political  abhorrence,  he  wished  to 
decline  the  alderman's  gown,  which  was  offered  to  him  to  secure 
his  support. 

While  his  acceptance  of  this  office  was  in  suspense  (for  though 
Mr.  Macaulay  gives  the  impression  that  Kiffin  did  not  accept  it, 
his  own  Memoirs  state  distinctly  that,  after  six  weeks'  considera 
tion,  he  did),  "  Penn,"  says  Mr.  Macaulay,  "  was  employed  in 
"  the  work  of  seduction,  but  to  no  purpose."! 

*  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  6G5.  +  Macaulay,  vol.  ii.  p.  230. 


14 

At  the  foot  of  the  page  containing  this  sentence  are  two  refer 
ences,  viz.,  "  Kiffin's  Memoirs,"  and  "  Luso-n's  Letter  to  Brooke." 
In  the  letter  there  is  no  allusion  to  Penn,  but  in  the  Memoirs  we 
find  the  following  : — "  In  a  little  after  a  great  temptation  attended 
"  me,  which  was  a  commission  from  the  King  to  be  one  of  the 
"  aldermen  of  the  city  of  London,  which,  as  soon  as  I  heard  of 
"  it,  I  used  all  the  means  I  could  to  be  excused,  both  by  some 
"  lords  near  the  King,  and  also  by  Sir  Nicholas  Butler  and  Mr. 
"  Penn."*  The  prejudice,  for  we  can  really  find  no  better  word, 
must  indeed  be  powerful,  which  can  thus  induce  an  historian  to 
pervert  Kiffin's  acknowledgment  that  he  made  use  of  Penn  to  get 
excused  into  a  proof  that  "  Penn  was  employed  by  the  King  in 
"  the  work  of  seduction." 

The  accusation  which  must  now  be  noticed  is  one  which  wrill 
require  a  more  detailed  examination.  The  Quaker  is  again  re 
presented  as  acting  the  base  part  of  a  political  pimp,  but  the  ob 
ject  of  the  King  is  not  now  merely  the  gain  of  the  vote  and  in 
terest  of  one  London  alderman,  though  a  Baptist  to  boot,  but  the 
delivery  of  the  fair  foundation  of  Magdalen  College,  with  all  its 
rich  lands,  into  the  arms  of  the  greedy  Jesuits.  In  order,  how 
ever,  to  form  a  just  judgment  of  Penn's  conduct  in  this  matter, 
the  story  of  the  case,  up  to  the  time  of  his  interference,  must, 
though  well  known,  be  briefly  recapitulated. 

In  March,  1687,  the  President  of  Magdalen  College  died;  the 
King,  not  satisfied  with  having  secured  University  and  Christ 
Church  Colleges  for  the  Roman  Catholics,  seized  this  opportunity 
to  spread  the  sway  of  his  faith,  and  sent  down  letters  mandatory 
to  the  fellows,  recommending  them  to  elect  to  the  vacant  place 
one  Antony  Farmer,  a  notorious  libertine,  but  as  a  renegade 
Papist  a  fit  man  to  serve  the  purpose  of  the  Court,  though  there 
fore  all  the  more  odious  to  the  members  of  the  College.  By  the 
statutes  of  the  foundation  the  right  of  election  rested  with  the 
fellows,  but  in  case  the  Court  proposed  a  candidate  duly  qualified, 
it  had  not  been  unusual  to  accept  its  nomination.  Against  such 
an  appointment  as  this,  however,  the  fellows  protested,  most 
reasonably,  but  in  vain,  and  at  length,  having  postponed  as  long 
as  possible  the  election,  in  the  fruitless  hope  that  some  attention 
would  be  paid  to  their  protest,  they  appointed,  on  the  15th  of 
*  Kiffin's  Memoirs,  edited  by  Orrae,  p.  84. 


15 

April,  Dr.  Hough,  a  divine,  whom  Mr.  Macaulay  justly  describes 
as  "  a  man  of  eminent  virtue  and  prudence."  At  this  act,  by 
which,  while  vindicating  their  rights,  they  defied  the  Royal  wish, 
James  was,  as  might  be  expected,  greatly  enraged:  accordingly, 
in  June,  the  fellows  were  cited  to  appear  before  the  High  Com 
mission,  by  whom  Hough's  election  was  annulled ;  but  abundant 
proof  having  been  given  of  Farmer's  vicious  habits,  his  name 
was  silently  dropped  as  too  disgraceful  to  press,  and  fresh  letters 
mandatory  were  sent  down  in  August,  ordering  the  fellows  forth 
with  to  choose  as  their  President,  Parker,  the  Bishop  of  Oxford. 

Parker,  though  not  an  avowed  was  a  suspected  Papist,  and, 
as  such,  and  as  a  well-known  partisan  of  the  Papist  party,  most 
distasteful  to  the  fellows,  who,  fortunately  for  the  expression  of 
their  dislike,  were  able  to  rest  their  opposition  to  his  appointment 
on  two  valid  legal  objections.  Hough  was  their  duly  elected 
President ;  their  oath,  therefore,  bound  them  to  support  him ;  and 
even  had  the  Presidency  been  vacant,  they  were  sworn  to  ap 
point  a  fellow  of  either  New  College  or  Magdalen,  neither  of 
which  conditions  Parker  fulfilled.  On  these  grounds,  therefore, 
they  respectfully  declined  to  obey  the  King's  order,  stating  they 
could  not  without  perjuring  themselves.  Thus  far  had  the  dis 
pute  proceeded,  when,  on  the  3d  of  September,  James,  in  the 
course  of  his  progress,  arrived  at  Oxford.  On  the  day  after  his 
arrival  he  sent  for  the  disobedient  fellows,  they  tendered  him  a 
petition,  he  refused  to  accept  it,  and  in  great  wrath  ordered  them 
to  be  "gone  to  their  home"  —  that  instant  "to  repair  to  their 
"  chapel,"  and  as  they  feared  "  the  weight  of  his  hand,"  "  elect 
"  the  Bishop  of  Oxford."*  To  their  chapel  they  retired,  to  con 
sult  whether  they  should  obey  their  Sovereign  or  abide  by  their 
oath,  and  to  their  lasting  honour  they  boldly  resolved  to  do  the 
latter. 

At  this  stage  of  the  conflict  Penn  for  the  first  time  appears  on 
the  field,  and  it  will  now  be  necessary  to  quote  Mr.  Macaulay, 
at  full  length,  in  doing  which  it  may  be  well  to  put  side  by  side 
with  his  account  that  contained  in  Wilmot's  Life  of  Hough,  from 
which  he  probably  obtained  his  information.  The  word  probably 
is  used,  because,  as  Mr.  Macaulay  quotes  no  reference  in  his 
story  of  Penn's  interference,  it  is  impossible  to  define  with  cer- 

*  Wilmot's  Life  of  Hough,  p.  15. 


16 

tainty  the  authorities  on  which  he  grounds  it;  but  Chough  the 
Life  of  Hough  is  not  in  the  list  of  authors  which  at  the  end  of 
his  report  of  the  Magdalen  College  case  he  gives  en  masse,  leav 
ing  his  reader  to  allot  as  he  best  can  the  special  circumstances 
to  each,  still  as  it  is  evident,  from  his  text,  that  he  consulted  this 
work,  and  as,  moreover,  it  contains  a  statement  impartial,  or,  if 
biassed  at  all,  certainly  against  Penn,  and  the  only  one  profess 
ing  to  be  a  complete  relation  of  the  facts,  its  comparison  with 
Mr.  Macaulay  will  show  how  far  he  is  justified  in  his  assertions. 
One  remark,  however,  is  needed  before  making  these  quota 
tions.  By  a  mode  of  lumping  facts,  which,  though  with  most 
historians  it  would  be  accounted  strange,  is  by  no  means  rare 
with  Mr.  Macaulay,  whose  artistic  fancy  not  unfrequently  in 
duces  him  to  sacrifice  accuracy  of  perspective  in  his  pictures  to 
effect  in  the  grouping  of  his  figures,  he  manages  to  give  the  im 
pression  that  the  transaction  he  describes  was  one  incident,  or 
at  least  an  unbroken  series  of  events,  instead  of  comprising,  as 
was  the  case,  three  distinct  incidents  occupying  altogether  a 
space  of  more  than  a  month.  In  order,  therefore,  fairly  to  test, 
or  in  fact  to  understand  his  narrative,  it  will  be  needful  to  follow 
the  example  of  a  previous  critic,*  and  to  divide  it  into  three  dis 
tinct  parts ;  and  if,  in  so  doing,  it  be  objected  that  sentences  which 
are  intended  to  apply  to  one  occurrence  are  quoted  as  referring 
to  another,  all  that  can  be  said  is,  that  every  care  has  been  taken 
to  apportion  the  descriptions  to  those  circumstances  to  which 
they  appear  to  be  least  inapplicable : — 

MACAULAY.j  WILMOT's    LIFE    OF    HOUGH.J 

"  The    King,   greatly   incensed  "  It   appears,   from   Anthony  a 

and  mortified  by  his  defeat,"  (viz.,  Wood's  account  of  this  visit,"  (viz,, 

the  refusal  of  the  fellows  to  admit  the  King's  visit  to  Oxford,)  "  that 

Parker  as  their  President,)  "  quit-  W.  Penn,  who  attended  the  King 

ted  Oxford  and  rejoined  the  Queen  to    Oxford,    went    afterwards    to 

at  Bath.     His  obstinacy  and  vio-  Magdalen  College ;   and  although 

lence  had  brought  him  into  an  em-  he  at  first  hoped  to  persuade  the 

barrassing  position.     He  had  trust-  fellows  to  comply  with  the  King's 

ed  too  much  to  the  effect  of  his  wishes,  yet,  when   he   heard  the 

frowns  and  angry  tones,  and  had  statement   of  their   case,   he   was 

rashly  staked  not  only  the  credit  satisfied  that  they  could  not  com- 

of  his  administration,  but  his  per-  ply    without    a    breach    of    their 

*  Tablet,  March  10,  1849.  t  Wilmot's  Life  of  Hough,  p.  15. 

t  Macaulay,  vol.  ii.,  p.  298. 


17 


sonal  dignity,  on  the  issue  of  the 
contest.  Could  he  yield  to  sub 
jects  whom  he  had  menaced  with 
raised  voice  and  furious  gestures  ? 
Yet  could  he  venture  to  eject  in 
one  day  a  crowd  of  respectable 
clergymen  from  their  homes  be 
cause  they  had  discharged  what  the 
whole  nation  regarded  as  a  sacred 
duty  ?  Perhaps  there  might  be  an 
escape  from  this  dilemma.  Per 
haps  the  College  might  still  be  ter 
rified,  caressed,  or  bribed  into  sub 
mission.  The  agency  of  Penn  was 
employed.  He  had  too  much  good 
feeling  to  approve  of  the  unjust  and 
violent  measures  of  the  govern 
ment,  and  even  ventured  to  ex 
press  part  of  what  he  thought. 
James  was,  as  usual,  obstinate  in 
the  wrong." 


oaths.  This  account  is  confirmed 
by  some  original  letters  now  in 
the  Bodleian  Library  at  Oxford, 
from  Dr.  Sykes  and  Mr.  Creech  to 
Dr.  Charlett,  of  the  6th,  7th,  and 
9th  of  September,  1687,  in  which, 
after  giving  exactly  the  same  ac 
count  of  the  King's  reception  and 
treatment  of  the  fellows,  they  both 
state  that  Mr.  Penn  went  after 
wards  to  Magdalen  College,  and 
having  had  some  conference  with 
the  fellows,  wrote  a  letter  to  the 
King  in  their  behalf,  observing 
'  that  their  case  was  hard ;  that  in 
their  circumstances  they  could  not 
yield  without  a  breach  of  their 
oaths ;  and  that  such  mandates 
were  a  force  upon  conscience,  and 
not  agreeable  to  the  King's  other 
gracious  indulgences.' " 


This  interview  of  Penn  with  the  fellows  must  have  occurred 
between  the  3d  of  September,  the  day  of  the  King's  arrival  at 
Oxford,  and  the  9th  of  the  same  month,  the  date  of  the  last  of 
the  letters  referred  to  by  Wilmot.  Some  time  afterwards,  on 
what  exact  day  is  not  known,  but  probably  about  the  end  of  the 
month,  an  anonymous  letter  was  received  by  Dr.  Thomas  Bailey, 
one  of  the  fellows,  which  he  chose  to  attribute  to  Penn,  to  whom 
he  sent  a  reply,  on  which  two  epistles  Mr.  Macaulay  rests  the 
following  declamation,  or  at  least  must  be  supposed  to  rest  it,  all 
other  authority  being  utterly  wanting : — 


MACAULAY.* 

;'  The  courtly  duaker  therefore 
did  his  best  to  seduce  the  College 
from  the  path  of  right.  He  first 
tried  intimidation.  Ruin  he  said 
impended  over  the  society.  The 
King  was  highly  incensed.  The 
case  might  be  a  hard  one.  Most 
people  thought  it  so.  But  every 
child  knew  "that  his  Majesty  loved 
to  have  his  own  way,  and  could 
not  bear  to  be  thwarted.  Penn, 


WILMOT.j 

"  It  was  now  rumoured  that  the 
King  had  issued  an  order  to  pro 
ceed  against  the  College  by  a  writ 
of  Quo  Warranto,  but  however 
this  was,  the  fellows  appear  to  have 
listened  to  an  application  made 
to  Dr.  Thomas  Bailey,  one  of  the 
senior  fellows,  from  William  Penn, 
who  was  said  to  be  in  great  favour 
at  that  time  with  the  King,  and 
had  written  to  the  Doctor"  a  let- 


t  Wilmot,  p.  18. 


18 


therefore,  exhorted  the  fellows  not 
to  rely  upon  the  goodness  of  their 
cause,  but  to  submit,  or  at  least 
to  temporise.  Such  counsel  came 
strangely  from  one  who  had  him 
self  been  expelled  from  the  Uni 
versity  for  raising  a  riot  about  the 
surplice,  who  had  run  the  risk  of 
being  disinherited  rather  than  take 
off  his  hat  to  the  princes  of  the 
blood,  and  had  been  more  than 
once  sent  to  prison  for  preaching 
at  conventicles.  He  did  not  suc 
ceed  in  frightening  the  Magdalen 
men.  In  answer  to  his  alarming 
hints  he  was  reminded  that  in  the 
last  generation  thirty-four  out  of 
the  forty  fellows  had  cheerfully 
left  their  beloved  cloisters  and  gard 
ens,  their  hall  and  their  chapel,  and 
had  gone  forth,  not  knowing  where 
they  should  find  a  meal  or  a  bed, 
rather  than  violate  the  oath  of  al 
legiance.  The  King  now  wished 
them  to  violate  another  oath.  He 
should  find  that  the  old  spirit  was 
not  extinct." 


ter,  of  which  the  following  is  a 
copy :  * 

"A  COPY  OF  A  LETTER  DIRECTED 
TO  DR.  BAYLEY.  FELLOW  OF 
MAGDALEN  COLLEGE,  OXON,  SUP 
POSED  TO  BE  WRIT  BY  MR.  WIL 
LIAM  PENN. 

"  SIR, — Upon  an  inquiry  made  of 
your  present  fellows  of  Magdalen 
College,  I  am  informed  that  you 
are  a  person  eminent  in  that  learn 
ed  body,  for  your  temper,  pru 
dence,  and  good  conduct  in  af 
fairs,  and  therefore  very  fit  to  be 
addressed  to  by  me,  who  do  not 
send  you  this  to  trepan  you  and 
your  brethren,  but  out  of  a  pas 
sionate  concern  for  your  interest ; 
to  persuade  you  either  to  a  com 
pliance  with  his  Majesty's  letters 
mandatory,  or  to  think  among 
yourselves  of  some  expedient  to 
prevent  the  ruin  of  your  College 
and  yourselves  ;  and  to  offer  it  to 
his  Majesty's  royal  consideration, 
that  the  order  for  the  Quo  War- 
ranto  against  the  College  may  be 
recalled,  before  it  be  too  late  ;  for 
you  cannot  but  be  sensible  how 
highly  his  Majesty  is  incensed 
against  you,  neither  can  you  give 
one  instance  whether  ever  that  sort 
of  proceeding  was  judged  against 
the  Crown.  Your  cause  most 
think  it  very  hard ;  but  you  are 
not  in  prudence  to  rely  on  the 
goodness  of  your  cause,  but  to  do 
what  the  present  instance  of  af 
fairs  will  permit,  and  in  patience  to 
expect  a  season  that  will  be  more 
auspicious  to  persons  of  your  cha 
racter.  Every  mechanic  knows 
the  temper  of  his  present  Majesty, 
who  never  will  receive  a  baffle  in 
any  thing  that  he  heartily  espouseth; 


*  Quotations  only  from  this  letter  are  given  in  Wilmot,  but  the  reader  will  un 
derstand  it  better  if  he  read  it  all,  and  it  is  therefore  given  above  in  full,  a*  printed 
iu  the  State  Trials,  vol.  iv.,  p.  270. 


19 


and  that  he  doth  this,  yourselves 
have  had  too  late  and  manifest  an 
instance  to  doubt  of  his  zeal  in  the 
aflair. 

"  Where  there  are  so  many 
statutes  to  be  observed,  it  is  im 
possible  but  some  must  be  broken 
at  one  time  or  another ;  and  I  am 
informed  by  the  learned  of  the 
law,  that  a  failure  in  any  one  point 
forfeits  your  grant,  and  lays  your 
College  open  to  the  Royal  dis 
posal. 

u  I  could  give  many  other  pru 
dent  arguments  that  might  pos 
sibly  incline  you  to  a  speedy  en 
deavour  of  putting  an  end  to  your 
troubles  almost  at  any  rate  ;  but  I 
shall  suggest  this  one  thing  to  you, 
that  your  fatal  overthrow  would  be 
a  fair  beginning  of  so  much  aimed 
at  reformation,  first  of  the  Univer 
sity,  then  of  the  Church,  and  ad 
minister  such  an  opportunity  to 
the  enemy  as  may  perhaps  not  oc 
cur  in  his  Majesty's  reign. 

"  Your  affectionate  servant,  &c. 

"  There  was  no  signature  to  this 
letter,  but,  from  what  passed  after 
wards,  there  is  every  reason  to  be 
lieve  that  it  was  written  by  William 
Penn,  to  whom  it  was  ascribed. 

"  Dr.  Bailey  returned  a  long  and 
argumentative  answer  to  this  letter, 
on  the  3d  of  October,  directed  to 
Mr.  Penn,  in  which  he  says,  i  The 
paper  enclosed  is  a  copy  of  a  let 
ter,  which,  by  the  charitable  pur 
pose  of  it,  seems  to  be  written  by 
you,  who  have  been  already  so 
kind  as  to  appear  in  our  behalf, 
and  are  reported  by  all  who  know 
you  to  employ  much  of  your  time 
in  doing  good  to  mankind,  and 
using  your  credit  with  his  Majesty 
to  undeceive  him  in  any  wrong  im 
pressions  given  him  of  his  con 
scientious  subjects,  and,  where  his 
justice  and  goodness  have  been 
thereby  abused,  to  reconcile  the 


20 

persons  injured  to  his  Majesty's 
favour,  and  secure  them  by  it  from 
oppression  and  prejudice.  In  this 
confidence,  I  presume  to  make  this 
application  to  you,  desiring  your 
excuse  for  not  subscribing  it ;  for 
if  you  did  write  the  letter,  you 
know  to  whom  it  was  directed ; 
and  if  you  did  not,  I  hope  your 
charity  will  induce  you  to  make 
such  use  of  your  light  you  have 
by  it  into  the  affairs  of  our  Col 
lege,  as  to  mediate  for  us  with  his 
Majesty  to  be  restored  to  his  good 
opinion,  as  the  only  thing  which 
is  desired  by  us,  who  are  zealous, 
above  all  earthly  things,  for  his 
felicity  and  glory."  ( 

What  reply  Perm  sent  to  Bailey's  letter,  or  whether  he  sent 
any,  is  not  known,  but  very  soon  after  this,*  "  viz.,  on  the  9th  of 
"  October,  a  deputation  from  the  College,  of  which  Dr.  Hough 
"  was  one,  had  a  conference  with  Mr.  Penn  at  Windsor,  where 
"  the  Court  at  that  time  was  held,"  which  is  described  by  Dr. 
Hough  in  the  following  letter  to  a  relation,  a  copy  of  which  is 
among  the  MSS.  of  the  British  Museum,  and  paraphrased  by  Mr. 
Macaulay  as  follows: — 

MACAULAY.|  wiLMOT.J  (Hough's  Letter.) 

„  " Then  Penn  tried  a  rentier  tone.  ,,  ^  .  7      .-,    n,7          .  7. 

He  had  an  interview  with  Hough  Octoler  tlie  9"''  at  "»**• 

and  with  some  of  the  fellows,  and,  "  DEAR  COUSIN, — I  gave  you  a 

after   many   professions   of    sym-  short  account  of  what  passed  at 

pathy  and  friendship,  began  to  hint  Windsor  this  morning  ;  but  having 

at  a  compromise.     The  King  could  the  convenience  of  sending  this  by 

not  bear  to  be  crossed.     The  Col-  Mr.  Charlett,  I  fancy  you  will  be 

lege  must  give  way.     Parker  must  well  enough  satisfied  to  hear  our 

be  admitted.     But  he  was  in  very  discourse  with  Mr.  Penn  more  at 

bad  health.      As   his   preferments  large. 

would   soon   be  vacant,   <  Doctor  "  He  was  in  all  about  three  hours 

Hough,'  said  Penn,  '  may  then  be  in  our  company,  and  at  his  first 

Bishop  of  Oxford.     How  should  coining  in,  he  began  with  the  great 

you  like  that,  gentlemen  ?'     Penn  concern  he  had  for  the  welfare  of 

had  passed  his  life  in  declaiming  our  College,  the  many  efforts  he 

against   a   hireling    ministry.     He  had  made  to  reconcile  us   to  the 

held  that  he  was  bound  to  refuse  King,  and  the  great  sincerity  of  his 

the   payment   of  tithes,   and   this  intentions    and   actions ;    that   he 

*  Wilmot,  p.  22.          t  Macaulay,  vol.  ii.,  p.  299.          J  Wiimot,  pp.  25  to  30. 


21 


even  when  he  had  bought  land 
chargeable  with  tithes,  and  had 
been  allowed  the  value  of  the 
tithes  in  the  purchase  money. 
According  to  his  own  principles, 
he  would  have  committed  a  great 
sin  if  he  had  interfered  for  the  pur 
pose  of  obtaining  a  benefice  on  the 
most  honourable  terms  for  the 
most  pious  divine.  Yet  to  such  a 
degree  had  his  manners  been  cor 
rupted  by  evil  communications,  and 
his  understanding  obscured  by  in 
ordinate  zeal  for  a  single  object, 
that  he  did  not  scruple  to  become 
a  broker  in  simony  of  a  peculiarly 
discreditable  kind,  and  to  use  a 
bishopric  as  a  bait  to  tempt  a  di 
vine  to  perjury.  Hough  replied 
with  civil  contempt  that  he  wanted 
nothing  from  the  Crown  but  com 
mon  justice.  '  We  stand,'  he  said, 
4  on  our  statutes  and  our  oaths ; 
but,  even  setting  aside  our  statutes 
and  oaths,  we  feel  that  we  have 
our  religion  to  defend.  The  Pa 
pists  have  robbed  us  of  Christ 
Church.  The  fight  is  now  for 
Magdalen.  They  will  soon  have 
all  the  rest.' 

"  Penn  was  foolish  enough  to 
answer  that  he  really  believed  that 
the  Papists  would  now  be  content. 
4  University,'  he  said, '  is  a  pleasant 
college.  Christ  Church  is  a  noble 
place.  Magdalen  is  a  fine  build 
ing.  The  situation  is  convenient. 
The  walks  by  the  river  are  delight 
ful.  If  the  Roman  Catholics  are 
reasonable,  they  will  be  satisfied 
with  these.'  This  absurd  avowal 
would  alone  have  made  it  impossi 
ble  for  Hough  and  his  brethren  to 
yield.  The  negotiation  was  bro 
ken  off,  and  the  King  hastened  to 
make  the  disobedient  know,  as  he 
had  threatened,  what  it  was  to  in 
cur  his  displeasure." 


thought  nothing  in  this  world  was 
worth  a  trick,  or  any  thing  suf 
ficient  to  justify  collusion  or  de 
ceitful  artifice,  and  this  he  insisted 
so  long  upon,  that  I  easily  per 
ceived  he  expected  something  of 
a  compliment,  by  way  of  assent, 
should  be  returned  ;  and  therefore, 
though  I  had  much  ado  to  bring  it 
out,  I  told  him  that  whatever  others 
might  conceive  of  him,  he  might 
be  assured  we  depended  upon  his 
sincerity,  otherwise  we  would 
never  have  given  ourselves  the 
trouble  to  come  thither  to  meet 
him. 

"  He  then  gave  an  historical  ac 
count,  in  short,  of  his  acquaintance 
with  the  King;  assured  us  it  was 
not  Popery  but  Property  that  first 
began  it;  that  however  people 
were  pleased  to  call  him  Papist,  he 
declared  to  us  that  he  was  a  dis 
senting  Protestant;  that  he  dis 
sented  from  Papists  in  almost  all 
those  points  wherein  we  differ 
from  them,  and  many  wherein  we 
and  they  are  agreed. 

"After  this  we  came  to  the  Col 
lege  again.  He  wished  with  all 
his  heart  that  he  had  sooner  con 
cerned  himself  in  it,  but  he  was 
afraid  that  he  had  now  come  too 
late;  however,  he  would  use  his 
endeavours,  and  if  they  were  un 
successful,  we  must  refer  it  to 
want  of  power,  not  of  good  will, 
to  serve  us.  I  told  him  I  thought 
the  most  effectual  way  would  be 
to  give  his  Majesty  a  true  state  of 
the  case,  which  1  had  reason  to 
suspect  he  had  never  yet  received  ; 
and  therefore  I  offered  him  some 
papers  for  his  instruction,  whereof 
one  was  a  copy  of  our  first  petition 
before  the  election,  another  was 
our  letter  to  the  Duke  of  Ormond 
and  the  state  of  our  case ;  a  third 
was  that  petition  which  our  society 
had  offered  to  his  Majesty  here  at 


Oxford;  and  a  fourth  was  that  sent 
after  the  King  to  Bath.  He  seem 
ed  to  read  them  very  attentively, 
and  after  many  objections,  (to 
•which  he  owned  I  gave  him  satis 
factory  answers,)  he  promised  faith 
fully  to  read  every  word  to  the 
King,  unless  he  was  peremptorily 
commanded  to  forbear.  He  was 
very  solicitous  to  clear  Lord  Sun- 
derland  of  suspicion,  and  threw  the 
odium  upon  the  Chancellor,  which 
I  think  I  told  you  in  the  morning, 
and  which  makes  me  think  there 
is  little  good  to  be  hoped  for  from 
him. 

"  He  said  the  measures  now  re 
solved  upon  were  such  as  the  King 
thought  would  take  effect ;  but  he 
said  he  knew  nothing  in  particular, 
nor  did  he  give  the  least  light, 
or  let  fall  any  thing  wherein  we 
might  so  much  as  ground  a  con 
jecture,  nor  did  he  so  much  as  hint 
at  the  letter  which  was  sent  to 
him. 

"  I  thank  God  he  did  not  so 
much  as  offer  at  any  proposal  by 
way  of  accommodation,  which  was 
the  thing  I  most  dreaded ;  only 
once,  upon  the  mention  of  the 
Bishop  of  Oxford's  indisposition, 
he '  said,  smiling,  '  If  the  Bishop 
of  Oxford  die,  Dr.  Hough  may  be 
made  Bishop.  What  think  you 
of  that,  gentlemen  ?'  Mr.  Cradock 
answered, c  they  should  be  heartily 
glad  of  it,  for  it  would  do  very 
well  with  the  Presidentship.'  But 
I  told  him  seriously,  I  had  no  am 
bition  above  the  post  in  which  I 
was,  and  that  having  never  been 
conscious  to  myself  of  any  dis 
loyalty  towards  my  Prince,  I  could 
not  but  wonder  what  it  was  should 
make  me  so  much  more  incapable 
of  serving  his  Majesty  in  it  than 
those  whom  he  had  been  pleased 
to  recommend.'  He  said,  Majesty 
did  not  love  to  be  thwarted ;  and 


23 


after  so  long  a  dispute  we  could 
not  expect  to  be  restored  to  the 
King's  favour  without  making 
some  concessions.'  I  told  him, 
4  that  we  were  ready  to  make  all 
that  were  consistent  with  honesty 
and  conscience  ;'  but  many  things 
might  have  been  said  upon  that 
subject,  which  I  did  not  then  think 
proper  to  mention.  'However,' 
said  I,  4  Mr.  Penn,  in  this  I  will  be 
plain  with  you.  We  have  our 
statutes  and  oaths  to  justify  us  in 
all  that  we  have  done  hitherto; 
but  setting  this  aside,  we  have  a 
religion  to  defend,  and  I  suppose 
yourself  would  think  us  knaves  if 
we  should  tamely  give  it  up.  The 
Papists  have  already  gotten  Christ 
Church  and  University;  the  pre 
sent  struggle  is  for  Magdalen  ;  arid 
in  a  short  time  they  threaten  they 
will  have  the  rest.'  He  replied 
with  vehemence,  '  That  they  shall 
never  have,  assure  yourselves ;  if 
once  they  proceed  so  far,  they  will 
quickly  find  themselves  destitute 
of  their  present  assistance.  For 
my  part,  I  have  always  declared 
my  opinion  that  the  preferments 
of  the  Church  should  not  be  put 
into  any  other  hands  but  such  as 
they  at  present  are  in ;  but  I  hope 
you  would  not  have  the  two  Uni 
versities  such  invincible  bulwarks 
for  the  Church  of  England,  that 
none  but  they  must  be  capable  of 
giving  their  children  a  learned 
education.  I  suppose  two  or  three 
colleges  will  content  the  Papists : 
Christ  Church  is  a  noble  structure, 
University  is  a  pleasant  place,  and 
Magdalen  College  is  a  comely 
building.  The  walks  are  pleasant, 
and  it  is  conveniently  situated  just 
at  the  entrance  of  the  town,'  &c. 
&c.  When  I  heard  him  talk  at 
this  rate,  I  concluded  he  was  either 
off  his  guard,  or  had  a  mind  to 
droll  upon  us  <  However,'  I  re- 


24 

plied,  <  when  they  had  ours,  they 
would  take  the  rest,  as  they  and 
the  present  possessors  could  never 
agree.'  In  short,  I  see  it  is  re 
solved  that  the  Papists  must  have 
our  College;  and  I  think  all  we 
have  to  do,  is,  to  let  the  world  see 
that  they  TAKE  it  from  us,  and  that 
we  do  not  GIVE  it  up. 

"  I  count  it  great  good  fortune 
that  so  many  were  present  at  this 
discourse  (whereof  I  have  not  told 
you  a  sixth  part,  but  I  think  the 
most  considerable) ;  for  otherwise 
I  doubt  this  last  passage  would 
have  been  suspected  as  if  to 
heighten  their  courage  through  de 
spair.  But  there  was  not  a  word 
said  in  private,  Mr.  Hammond,  Mr. 
Hunt,  Mr.  Cradock,  and  Mr.  Young, 
being  present  all  the  time. 

"  Give  my  most  humble  service 
to  Sir  Thomas  Powell  and  Mrs. 
Powell. 

"  I  am,  dear  Sir, 
"  Tour  very  affectionate  and 

"  faithful  Servant, 

<«J.  H." 

With  this  interview  ended,  so  far  as  history  informs  us,  Penn's 
interference. 

The  disagreement  between  the  two  narratives  above  quoted  is 
almost  too  evident  to  need  remark,  but  it  may  be  worth  while  to 
recapitulate  Mr.  Macaulay's  perversions  and  omissions. 

First,  as  regards  Penn's  earliest  share  in  the  business,  \iz.,  his 
conference  with  the  fellows  at  Oxford,  Mr.  Macaulay  says, 
"  Penn's  agency  was  employed."  None  of  Wilmot's  authorities, 
neither  Anthony  a  Wood,  nor  Sykes'  and  Creech's  letters,  men 
tion  any  employment ;  they  merely  state  that,  after  the  King  had 
met  the  fellows,  Penn  went  to  Magdalen  College,  but  whether  at 
the  instigation  of  the  Court  or  of  his  own  feelings  they  do  not 
add.  His  object  may,  as  has  been  well  stated,  have  been  "  either 
"  to  save  the  King  from  his  dilemma  or  the  College  from  its 
"peril."*  The  imputation  of  either  motive  is  an  assumption, 

*  Tablet,  March  10th,  1849. 


25 

out  Mr.  Macaulay's  positive  assertion  that  he  was  employed  is 
certainly  unwarranted. 

But  Mr.  Macaulay  assumes  much  more  than  the  fact  of 
agency ;  he  asserts  not  only  that  Penn  was  employed,  but  em 
ployed  in  order  to  "  terrify,  caress,  or  bribe  the  College  into  sub- 
"  mission."  If  this  was  the  task  imposed  on  him,  he  certainly 
did  not  fulfil  it,  nor  even  attempt  to  fulfil  it,  for  though,  says  Wil- 
mot,  "  he  at  first  hoped  to  persuade  the  fellows  to  comply  with 
"  the  King's  wishes,  yet,  when  he  heard  the  statement  of  the 
"  case,"  that  is,  when  he  ascertained  the  true  facts, "  he  was  satis- 
"  fied  that  they  could  not  comply  without  a  breach  of  their  oaths, 
"  and  wrote  a  letter  to  the  King  on  their  behalf." 

Again,  when  Mr.  Macaulay  says  that  Penn,  having  "  too  much 
"  good  feeling  to  approve  of  the  violent  and  unjust  proceedings 
"  of  the  government"  (wonderful  admission !)  "  even  ventured  to 
"  express  part  of  what  he  thought,"  it  would  have  been  well  to 
have  stated  what  part  of  his  thoughts  he  can  have  concealed. 
The  fellows  allege  their  oath  as  their  excuse  for  disobedience, 
this  excuse  they  represent  to  Penn,  who  boldly  and  plainly  repeats 
it  to  the  King.  "  Their  case,"  he  says, "  was  hard,"  "  they  could 
"  not  yield  obedience  without  a  breach  of  their  oaths,"  "  such 
"  mandates  were  a  force  on  conscience."  "  What  more  could 
"  he  or  any  one  have  said  ?"  and  what  other  of  James's  courtiers, 
who  vied  in  his  desertion  and  in  fawning  on  his  successor,  when 
the  "  courtly  Quaker"  had  courage  to  declare  that  the  fallen 
monarch  "  had  been  his  friend  and  his  father's  friend,"*  would 
have  dared  to  say  as  much?' 

Next,  as  to  the  letter  addressed  to  Bailey,  and  attributed  to 
Penn :  in  the  first  place,  there  is  no  proof,  or  rather  no  proba 
bility,  that  this  letter  was  his  writing.  It  bears  no  signature,  he 
never  acknowledged  any  share  in  it,  it  is  not  alluded  to  as  his  by 
Hough  in  his  account  of  the  Windsor  conference,  and  though 
Wilmot  seems  to  suppose  he  never  denied  it,  there  is  good  reason 
to  believe  he  did,  inasmuch  as  the  cotemporary  copy  of  the  pro 
ceedings  in  this  case,  preserved  in  the  archives  of  Magdalen  Col 
lege,  bears  on  the  margin  of  this  letter  a  manuscript  memoran 
dum,  "  Mr.  Penn  disowned  this."  Moreover,  its  very  wording, 

*  Perm's  Speech  before  the  Lords  of  the  Council,  1688  :  Life  prefixed  to  Works, 
p.  139. 


26 

the  terms  "  Sir  and  Majesty,"  are  contrary  to  his  notorious  scru 
ples  and  style  of  writing.  Mr.  Macaulay  does  indeed  state, 
either  on  the  authority  of  this  anonymous  epistle,  or  his  own  ima 
gination,  that  "  titles  and  phrases  against  which  he  had  borne  his 
"  testimony  dropped  occasionally  from  his  lips  and  his  pen ;"  and 
possibly  the  fact  that  such  phrases  were  inconsistent  with  his  pro 
fession,  and  therefore  with  his  sincerity,  may  be  in  Mr.  Macau- 
lay's  mind  reason  why  he  should  ascribe  them  to  Penn ;  but  as  no 
other  occasion  is  recorded  in  which  they  fell  from  him,  and  as 
no  motive  can  be  imagined  for  him  to  have  thus  belied  the  scru 
ples  of  a  life,  for  which  he  had  so  often  suffered  (nor  indeed  for 
him  to  conceal  his  name  at  all,)  their  use  in  this  case  would 
appear  to  be  strong  internal  evidence  against  his  authorship. 

But  even  supposing  that  it  is  fair  to  charge  him  with  the  con 
tents  of  this  document,  which  plainly  it  is  not,  they  by  no  means 
justify  Mr.  Macaulay's  insinuations  of  "  intimidation,"  attempts 
to  "  seduce  the  College  from  the  path  of  right,"  to  "  frighten  the 
"  Magdalen  men,"  &c. 

So  far  from  the  letter  having  given  such  ideas  to  Dr.  Bailey, 
he  grounds  his  guess  that  it  was  Penn's  on  "  its  charitable  pur- 
"  pose"  making  it  "  seem  to  have  been  written  by  one  who  had 
"  been  already  so  kind  as  to  appear  on  their  behalf,"  and  was 
"  reported  by  all  who  knew  him  to  employ  much  of  his  time  in 
"  doing  good  to  mankind,  and  using  his  credit  with  his  Majesty 
"  to  undeceive  him  in  any  wrong  impression." 

It  is  a  pity  Mr.  Macaulay  has  not  quoted  this  reply  of  Bailey : 
his  readers  could  then  have  judged  how  far  the  impression  he 
gives  of  Penn's  conduct  was  that  felt  by  the  parties  most  inte 
rested. 

Lastly,  comes  the  final  interview  at  Windsor,  in  Mr.  Macau- 
lay's  account  of  which  the  incorrect  notion  given  by  his  disre 
gard  of  time  and  place  is  plain  enough. 

Any  one  of  his  readers  would  suppose  that  this  interview  was 
sought  by  Penn  in  performance  of  his  office  of  seduction.  "  He 
"  did  not  succeed  in  frightening  the  Magdalen  men,"  so  he  "  tried 
"  a  gentler  tone,"  and  accordingly  "  had  an  interview  with 
"  Hough,"  &c.,  and  "  began  to  hint  at  a  compromise."  Who 
would  imagine,  after  reading  such  sentences  as  these,  that  this 
conference  took  place,  not  at  the  College,  but  at  Windsor,  a  depu- 


27 

tation  of  the  fellows  going  forty  miles  to  see  the  Quaker,  more 
than  a  month  after  the  interview  at  Oxford,  and  six  days  after 
the  date  of  Bailey's  letter,  in  consequence  of  whose  entreaty  for 
his  intercession  it  was  probably  held  ? 

Nor  are  the  distortions  by  Mr.  Macaulay  of  Bishop  Hough's 
report  of  this  interview  less  evident* 

"  Mr.  Macaulay  represents  Penn  as  employed  to  solicit  the 
"  fellows ;  Dr.  Hough  represents  the  fellows  as  coming  to  solicit 
"  him. 

"  Mr.  Macaulay  says  that,  after  many  professions  of  friendship, 
"Penn  'began  to  hint  at  a  compromise;'  Dr.  Hough  *  thanks 
"  God  he  did  not  so  much  as  offer  at  any  proposal  by  way  of 
"  accommodation,  which  was  the  thing  I  most  dreaded.' 

"  Mr.  Macaulay  makes  his  readers  believe  that  the  topics 
"  urged  by  Penn  were  urged  to  persuade  them  to  compromise  ; 
*;  Dr.  Hough  describes  them  as  used  to  convince  the  fellows  that 
"  there  was  little  hope  of  success  from  his  intercession. 

"  Mr.  Macaulay  represents  Penn  as  trying  to  overcome  the 
"  scruples  of  the  fellows  to  the  commission  of  perjury ;  Dr.  Hough 
"  represents  him  as  admitting  that  the  fellows  gave  satisfactory 
"  answers  to  his  «  objections.' 

"  Mr.  Macaulay  represents  Penn  as  talking  the  merest  drivel, 
"  relying  solely  on  James's  moderation,  and  willing  to  give  the 
"  '  Papists'  two  or  three  colleges  in  mere  wanton  injustice ;  Dr. 
"  Hough  (most  unwillingly)  shows  that  Penn  thought  the  '  Papists' 
"  had  a  right  to  two  or  three  colleges,  and  believed  they  would 
"  abstain  from  further  demands  because  it  would  be  dangerous 
"  to  ask  for  more. 

"  Mr.  Macaulay  describes  the  result  of  the  interview  as  the 
"  *  breaking  off  of  a  negotiation'  by  the  fellows ;  Dr.  Hough  de- 
tt  scribes  it  as  the  concession  of  a  favour  by  Penn. 

"  In  short,  in  every  part  of  it,  in  general  and  in  detail,  no  ver- 
"  sion  of  the  interview  could  be  imagined  or  invented  more  re- 
"  mote  from  the  truth  than  that  given  by  Mr.  Macaulay.  It  is 
"  true  that  when  somebody  mentioned  the  Bishop  of  Oxford's  in- 
"  disposition,  Penn  '  smiling'  asked  the  fellows  how  they  would 

*  These  differences  between  the  two  writers  are  so  clearly  given  in  the  critic 
previously  alluded  to  (Tablet,  March  10th,  1849,)  that  they  hardly  admit  of  alter 
ation,  and  are  therefore  quoted  at  length  in  the  text. 


28 

"  like  Hough  to  be  made  a  Bishop.  This  remark,  made  as  a 
"  joke,  answered  by  Mr.  Cradock  as  a  joke,  and — even  by  Dr. 
"  Hough,  who  answered  it  more  seriously,  not  taken  as  an  *  offer 
"  at  any  proposal  by  way  of  accommodation' — this  casual  piece 
"of  jocosity;  picked  out  of  a  three  hours'  conversation;  reported 
"  by  one  interlocutor  without  the  privity  of  the  other ;  and,  if 
"  taken  seriously,  at  variance  with  every  other  part  of  the  con- 
"  versation,  and  unconnected  with  its  general  tenor,  is  gravely 
"  brought  forward  as  a  proof  that  a  man  otherwise  honest,  deli- 
"  berately  intended  to  use  *  simony'  as  a  bait  to  tempt  a  divine  to 
"  what  both  parties  knew  to  be  '  perjury.' 

"If  Mr.  Macaulay  were  Crown  counsel  arguing  for  Penn's 
"  conviction  before  a  common  jury,  such  a  «  point'  would  be  too 
"  gross  even  for  the  license  of  the  Old  Bailey.  But  if  this  be 
"  admitted  as  a  canon,  not  of  the  venal  advocate,  but  of  the  grave 
"  historian,  who,  by  virtue  of  his  function,  is  bound  to  judicial 
"  soberness  and  impartiality,  God  help  the  characters  of  all  honest 
"  men." 

Before  leaving  this  case,  it  may  be  well  to  quote  Sewell's  no 
tice  of  it  in  his  "  History  of  the  Quakers,"  in  order  that  the  reader 
may  observe  how  completely  Wilmot's  account  is  confirmed,  and 
Mr.  Macaulay's  contradicted,  by  an  entirely  independent  narra 
tor,  who  was,  as  Clarkson  says,  "  then  in  correspondence  with 
"  Penn,  knowing  almost  every  thing  relating  to  him  as  it  hap- 
"pened,  and  who  must  have  obtained  his  information  from 
"  sources  quite  distinct  from  Wilmot,  none  of  the  documents 
"  quoted  by  the  latter  having  been  published  till  after  his  death." 

"  The  King  having  thus  granted  liberty  of  conscience  to  people 
"  of  all  persuasions,"  says  Sewell,*  "  did  whatever  he  could  to 
"  introduce  Popery  in  England,  for  he  permitted  the  Jesuits  to 
"  erect  a  College  in  the  Savoy  at  London,  and  suffered  the  fryars 
"  to  go  publickly  in  the  dress  of  their  monastical  orders.  This 
"was  a  very  strange  sight  to  Protestants  in  England,  and  it 
"  caused  no  small  fermentation  in  the  minds  of  people,  when  the 
"  fellows  at  Magdalen  College,  at  Oxford,  were  by  the  King's 
"  order  dispossessed,  to  make  way  for  Romanists.  This  was 
"  such  a  gross  usurpation,  that  W.  Penn,  who  had  ready  access 
"  to  the  King,  and  who  endeavoured  to  get  the  penal  laws  and 

*  Sewell,  p.  609. 


29 

"  test  abrogated,  thinking  it  possible  to  find  out  a  way,  whereby 
"  to  limit  the  Papists  so  effectually  that  they  should  not  be  able 
"  to  prevail,  did,  for  all  that,  not  omit  to  blame  this  usurpation  at 
"  Oxford,  and  to  tell  the  King,  that  it  was  an  act  which  could 
"not  in  justice  be  defended;  since  the  general  liberty  of  con- 
"  science  did  not  allow  of  depriving  any  of  their  property,  who 
"  did  what  they  ought  to  do,  as  the  fellows  of  the  said  College 
"  appeared  to  have  done." 

Objection  might  possibly  be  made  to  this  testimony  of  Sewell, 
if  taken  by  itself,  though  hardly  with  reason,  inasmuch  as  his 
reputation  for  honesty  as  a  historian  is  unquestioned,  and  his  feel 
ing  as  a  Dutchman  and  a  Protestant,  in  favour  of  William  and 
his  policy,  and  in  opposition  to  James  (abundantly  shown  in  his 
work,)  was  such  as  would  counteract  any  bias  to  which  his 
Quakerism  and  friendship  for  Penn  might  expose  him ;  but  cer 
tainly,  as  corroborative  evidence,  such  testimony  is  as  indisput 
able  as  strong. 

Surely,  then,  an  examination  into  the  true  facts  of  this  Oxford 
business  makes  it  not  unjust  to  Mr.  Macaulay  to  assert,  that  his 
charges  against  Penn  of  "  intimidation,"  of  being  a  "  broker  in 
"  simony  of  a  peculiarly  discreditable  kind,"  of  endeavours  "  to 
*'  tempt  a  divine  to  perjury,"  to  "  terrify  or  bribe"  men  to  forsake 
"  the  path  of  right,"  are  all  groundless ;  that  his  statement,  that 
even  in  the  first  instance  he  was  employed  by  the  Court,  is  un 
proved  ;  and  that  the  impression  given,  that  he  was  its  agent  in 
the  last  and  most  important  interview,  is  the  very  reverse  of  the 
truth,  the  requests  for  his  intercession,  which  his  reputation  for 
44  doing  good  to  mankind,"  and  honest  struggles  to  "  undeceive" 
the  King,  induced  such  men  as  Bailey  to  make  to  him,  being 
construed,  as  in  the  case  of  Kiffin,  into  attempts  on  his  part  to 
seduce  and  efforts  to  frighten. 

It  would  be  hard  to  find  any  other  history  in  which  the  very 
virtues  of  a  man  are  thus  twisted  into  grounds  for  the  most  inju 
rious  attacks  upon  his  character. 

But  however  unwarranted  these  attacks,  this  much  must  be 
allowed,  that  the  tone  of  Hough's  letter  does  give  ground  to  be 
lieve  that  he  regarded  Penn  with  some  suspicion,  as  a  supposed 
supporter  of  the  King's  general  policy,  and  possible  participator 
in  his  designs  against  the  interests  of  the  Protestant  Church.  It 


30 

remains,  therefore,  to  be  considered  how  far  this  suspicion,  which 
indeed  forms  the  sole  excuse  for  Mr.  Macaulay's  strictures,  was 
justified — on  what  facts  it  was  grounded,  and  whether  these  facts 
were  in  themselves  discreditable  or  not.  In  order  to  reply  to 
these  questions,  a  few  remarks  respecting  Penn's  connection  with 
the  Court,  and  its  cause,  will  be  needed. 

When  James  came  to  the  throne,  there  were  in  the  prisons  of 
his  kingdom  about  1400*  Quakers,  more  than  200  of  them  wo 
men,  unoffending  people,  forced  by  the  very  tenets  of  that  faith 
for  which  they  suffered  to  be  loyal  subjects  and  peaceable  citi 
zens,  whose  sole  alleged  crime  was  their  obedience  to  the  voice 
of  conscience.  For  this  obedience,  from  the  time  they  had  first 
gathered  together  as  a  sect,  each  religious  party,  as  it  gained 
political  sway,  had  measured  its  power  by  their  persecution.  As 
Penn  said,  when  stating  their  wrongs  to  the  Parliament  of  1679, 
they  had  been  as  the  "  common  whipping-stock  of  the  kingdom : 
"  all  laws  had  been  let  loose  upon  them,  as  if  the  design  had  been, 
"  not  to  reform,  but  to  destroy  them." 

George  Fox,  their  founder  and  leader,  would  have  been  quali 
fied  to  draw  up  a  report  of  the  state  of  the  gaols  of  the  island, 
so  universal  and  experimental  was  his  acquaintance  with  them, 
and  a  sad  list  it  would  have  shown  of  noisome  holes  and  stifling 
dungeons,  for  those  were  days  in  which  Prison  Reform  had  been 
in  truth  but  little  agitated.  More  than  320f  Quakers  had  died  in 
confinement  between  1660  and  James's  accession;  at  that  very 
time  many  "  were  tending  towards  their  destruction ;"  and  very 
shortly  before  "  several  poor  innocent  tradesmen  had  been  so  suf- 
"  focated  by  the  closeness  of  Newgate,  that  they  had  been  taken 
"  out  sick  of  a  malignant  fever,  and  had  died  in  a  few  days."£ 
Nor  were  their  sufferings  restricted  to  imprisonment :  their  meet 
ings  for  worship  were  dispersed,  their  wives  and  daughters  ill- 
treated,  their  goods  spoiled,  often  "  not  a  bed  left  to  rest  upon ;" 
informers — hardened  wretches,  their  own  consciences  long  seared 
by  sin — were  set  upon  them,  encouraged  to  turn  their  consciences 
to  profit,  to  make  merchandise  of  their  misery.  These  blood 
hounds  of  the  law  were  the  missionaries — sanguinary  enactments 

*  Petition  of  Quakers  to  Parliament,  1685  ;  Sewell,  p.  588  j  and  Petition  to  the 
King,  id.  p.  592. 
t  Petition,  Sewell,  p.  558.  t  Croese,  p.  101. 


31 

were  the  arguments  employed  in  the  conversion  of  the  Quaker 
alike  by  cavalier  parson  and  puritan  preacher. 

Few  persecutions,  indeed,  have  been  more  cruel  or  severe  than 
that  endured  by  the  first  generation  of  the  "  Friends,"  and  in  nono 
have  the  patience  and  faithfulness  of  its  victims  been  exceeded. 
History  records  no  instance  in  which  they,  any  one  of  them, 
denied  or  concealed  their  principles,  or  attempted  to  retaliate  on 
their  oppressors.  Thus  long  and  fiercely  had  the  storm  of  bigotry 
raged  against  Penn's  fellow-religionists,  nor  had  he  himself  fled 
from  its  fury.  Bravely  had  he  borne  up  against  it.  Four  times 
he  had  been  imprisoned,  twice  sent  to  the  tower ;  once  at  the  in 
stigation  of  the  Bishop  of  London,  he  had,  for  writing  a  book  in 
defence  of  his  faith,  been  immured  there  in  close  confinement, 
none  of  his  friends  being  allowed  access  to  him :  his  father,  the 
old  Admiral,  whose  distaste  to  enthusiasm  was  almost  equal  to 
Mr.  Macaulay's,  managed  to  inform  him  "  that  the  Bishop  was 
"  resolved  he  should  either  publicly  recant  or  die  a  prisoner." 
"  Tell  my  father,"  he  replied,  "  that  my  prison  shall  be  my  grave 
"  before  I  will  budge  a  jot,  for  I  owe  my  conscience  to  no  mor- 
"  tal  man.  I  have  no  need  to  fear.  God  will  make  amends  for 
«  all  !"* 

Once,  indeed,  he  did  succeed  in  defeating  the  malice  of  his 
foes,  when,  after  having  been  kept  untried  some  months  in  New 
gate,  he  was  brought  to  the  bar  of  the  Old  Bailey,  and,  thanks 
to  his  own  ability  and  courage,  was  acquitted.  That  famous 
trial  would  alone  explain  the  fact,  which  is  so  puzzling  to  Mr. 
Macaulay,  the  honour  paid  to  his  name  by  posterity,  for  it  is  hard 
to  say  how  much  of  our  present  religious  freedom  is  not  due  to 
a  defence  which  so  ably  proved  that  the  rights  of  conscience  are 
inseparable  from  the  civil  liberties  of  a  British  citizen. f 

But  at  length  there  was  a  ray  of  hope  for  this  despised  and 
persecuted  people.  The  justice  and  mercy  which  had  been  denied 

*  Life  prefixed  to  Works,  p.  6. 

t  See  "The  People's  Ancient  and  Just  Liberties  asserted  in  the  trial  of  William 
Pcnn  and  William  Mead,  at  the  Old  Bailey,  September,  1670." — Works,  vol.  i.  p. 
7. — This  trial,  in  fact,  gave  occasion  to  proceedings  against  Bushel,  the  foreman 
of  the  jury,  in  which  Lord  Chief  Justice  Vaughan  pronounced  his  noble  vindication 
of  the  right  of  jurors  to  deliver  a  free  verdict,  which  by  giving  independence  to 
juries,  made  the  institution  so  effectual  a  protection  to  the  liberty  of  the  subject. — 
See  Bushel's  Case,  Vaughari's  Reports,  p.  135. 


32 

to  them,  when  demanded  on  public  grounds,  they  had  some  reasons 
to  look  for  as  boons  to  private  friendship,  "  for  between  the  new 
"  Sovereign  and  Penn  there  had  long  been  a  familiar  acquaint- 
"  ance."*  The  Admiral  had,  on  his  death-bed,  besought  the  Duke 
of  York  to  protect  his  son,  and  James  had  honestly  fulfilled  his 
promise  to  a  beloved  and  faithful  servant,  and  indeed  had  already 
shown  his  good  will  by  procuring  Penn's  liberation  from  the 
Tower.f 

The  Quakers  had  therefore  a  friend  at  court,  if  he  chose  to  use 
his  influence,  and  most  culpable  would  he  have  been  if  he  had 
neglected  to  do  so,  seeing  how  much  and  for  what  purpose  it  was 
needed.  Hence  it  was  that  he  "  became  a  courtier,"J  and,  so 
great  was  the  affection  and  esteem  of  his  Sovereign,  "  almost  a 
"  favourite.  He  was  every  day  summoned  from  the  gallery  into 
"  the  closet,  and  sometimes  had  long  audiences,  while  peers  \vere 
"  kept  waiting  in  the  ante-chambers.  It  was  noised  abroad  that 
"  he  had  more  real  power  to  help  and  hurt  than  many  nobles  who 
"  filled  high  offices.  He  was  soon  surrounded  by  flatterers  and 
'*  suppliants.  His  house  at  Kensington  was  sometimes  thronged, 
"  at  his  hour  of  rising,  by  more  than  200  suitors."  Mr.  Macau- 
lay  quotes  in  his  margin  the  passage  in  Croese's  "  Historia  Qua- 
"  keriania"  describing  these  levees,  but  not  explaining  their  cause. 
"  When  the  carrying  on  these  affairs  required  expenses  at  Court 
"  for  writings  and  drawing  out  of  things  into  acts,  copyings,  fees, 
"  and  other  moneys  which  are  due,  or  at  least  are  usually  paid, 
"  Penn,"  says  Croese,  "  so  discreetly  managed  matters,  that  out 
"of  his  own,  which  he  had  in  abundance,  he  liberally  discharged 
"  all  emergent  expenses."§  No  wonder  that  a  courtier,  who,  in 
those  days  of  universal  and  unblushing  corruption,  not  only  did 
not  sell  his  influence,  but  actually  paid  out  of  his  own  pocket  the 
expenses  of  his  petitioners,  had  them  rush  in  crowds  to  his  gates. 

*  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  506.  t  Penn's  Letter  to  Popple. 

I  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  506. 

§  Croese,  Cotemporary  English  Translation,  book  ii.  p.  107.  The  Latin  is  as 
follows  : — "  At  qui  hie,  cum  magni  in  his  negotiis  sumptus  essent  faciendi,  in  aula, 
in  curiis,  pro  scripturis,  pro  relationibus  in  acta,  ex  iisque  repetitionibus,  pro  cera- 
riis,  pro  cseteris  pecuniis,  quae  sic  debent,  et  etsi  non  debent,  tamcn  solent  solvi. 
Pennus  hsec  omnia  ita  tractabat,  ut  quemadmodum  ei  facilitates  alunde  suppetebant, 
ita  liberaliter  ad  vmnia  JKBC  sumptus  faceret" — Gerardi,  Croesi,  Historia  Quakeriana, 
lib.  ii.  p.  370. 


33 

This  passage,  which  Mr.  Macaulay  does  not  quote,  immediately 
follows  one  which  he  does,  but,  as  it  is  scarcely  reconcileable 
with  the  estimate  his  after  remarks  show  him  to  have  formed  of 
Penn's  conduct,  it  is  not  surprising  that  he  makes  no  mention 
of  it. 

"The  first  use,"*  however,  "which  he  made  of  his  credit"  — 
his  successful  efforts  to  procure  the  liberation  of  the  1400  captive 
Quakers,  he  allows  "  to  have  been  highly  commendable."  But 
this  success  did  not  and  indeed  could  not  satisfy  him :  his  friends 
were  pardoned  by  the  King's  mercy,  but  there  was  no  security 
that  the  unjust  laws  which  had  imprisoned  them  would  not  be 
again  enforced.  Nor  was  it  for  the  relief  of  his  own  persuasion 
alone  that  he  laboured  for  the  repeal  of  the  penal  laws,  but  in 
order  to  ensure  to  all  his  fellow-countrymen,  permission  to  wor 
ship  their  God  as  they  pleased.  The  fact  is,  he  was  an  enthu 
siast  in  the  cause  of  religious  liberty :  it  wras  a  cause  for  which, 
ever  since  he  had  arrived  at  manhood,  he  had  been  talking, 
writing,  suffering. 

"  Freedom  in  things  relating  to  conscience,"!  was  his  petition 
to  the  Earl  of  Orrery,  in  his  earliest  letter  on  record,  written  in 
his  twenty -third  year ;  and  three  years  after,  when  "  a  prisoner 
"  for  conscience  sake  in  Newgate,"  he  wrote  his  "  Great  Case  of 
•;  Liberty  of  Conscience,"  claiming  it  as  "  the  undoubted  right" 
of  all,  "  by  the  law  of  God,  of  nature,  and  of  our  own  country.":}: 

These  were  rare  notions  in  those  days,  when  the  virtue  of 
bigotry  was  preached  and  practised  alike  by  Independent,  Pres 
byterian,  and  Episcopalian ;  when  liberty  to  serve  God  their  own 
way,  and  to  force  others  to  do  the  same,  were  the  aims  of  each 
of  the  three  great  divisions  of  British  Protestants.  Especially 
did  they  all  three  agree  in  a  firm  belief  in  their  duty  to  persecute 
the  Papists.  Catholics  and  Quakers,  professing  as  it.  were  the 
two  extremes  of  Christianity,  often  met  in  the  dungeon,  and  thus 
it  was  that,  in  1678,  when  Churchmen  and  Dissenters  forgot  their 
mutual  hatred  in  their  frenzied  fear  of  the  Popish  plot,  they  could 
yet  spare  some  cruelty  for  the  poor  "  Friends."  The  memory  of 
the  Marian  persecution  gives  some  ground,  if  not  excuse,  for 
their  hatred  of  the  Romanists,  but  why  they  should  include  the 

*  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  508.  t  Life  prefixed  to  Works,  p.  3. 

t  Perm's,  vol.  i.  p.  443. 
3 


34 

Quakers  in  their  wrath  it  is  hard  to  determine,  unless  indeed  their 
avowed  respect  for  the  conscience  even  of  a  Papist  was  so  un 
accountable,  that  it  could  only  be  ascribed  to  a  concealed  adher 
ence  to  his  faith. 

Hence  possibly  the  reason  that  many  of  them,  and  Penn  espe 
cially,  were  often  called  Papists — Jesuits  in  disguise.  Neverthe 
less,  spite  of  this  prejudice,  and  at  the  very  height  of  the  anti- 
Popery  fury,  he  yet,  when  protesting  before  a  Committee  of  Par 
liament  against  the  "  injustice  of  whipping  Quakers  for  Papists,"* 
ventured  to  add  that  he  did  not  "  think  it  fit  that  even  Papists 
"  should  be  whipt  for  their  consciences,  for  such  arguments,"  he 
said,  "  did  not  seem  to  him  to  be  convincing,  or  indeed  adequate 
*'  to  the  reason  of  mankind."  Such  words  as  these  seem  to  us 
simple  truisms,  but  those  who  have  read  Mr.  Macaulay's  vivid 
description  of  the  Reign  of  Terror,  resulting  from  the  professed 
disclosures  of  the  Popish  Plot,  will  feel  that  only  a  man  who 
feared  God,  and  no  one  else,  would  have  dared  to  speak  them 
before  the  Parliament  of  1678. 

So  then  Penn  might  well  say.  in  his  letter  to  Popple,f  "  that 
"  liberty  of  conscience  is  the  first  step  to  have  a  religion.  This 
"  is  no  new  opinion  with  me.  I  have  writ  many  apologies  within 
"  the  last  twenty  years  to  defend  it ;"  but  he  adds,  as  though  an 
ticipating  the  publication  of  Mr.  Macaulay's  History,  yet  "  did  I 
"  never  once  think  of  promoting  any  sort  of  liberty  of  conscience 
"  for  any  body  which  did  not  preserve  the  common  Protestancy 
"  of  the  kingdom  and  the  ancient  rights  of  the  government ;  for 
"  to  say  truth,  the  one  cannot  be  maintained  without  the  other." 

This  sentence  recalls  us  to  the  question  at  issue.  Did  "  his 
"  enthusiasm  for  one  great  principle"  in  reality  "  impel  him  to 
"  violate  other  great  principles  which  he  ought  to  have  held  sa- 
"  cred  ?" J  Did  he,  in  his  zeal  for  liberty  of  conscience,  forget  the 
liberties  of  the  subject,  or  try  to  undermine  the  Protestant  religion  ? 

Fairly  to  consider  this  question,  we  must  put  ourselves  in  his 
position,  and  view  the  circumstances  around  him,  not  by  the 
light  which  after  events  have  cast  upon  them,  but  by  that  with 
which  we  should  have  seen  them  from  his  point  of  view. 

His  position  was  in  truth  a  peculiar  one.     The  faith  in  which 

*  Life  prefixed  to  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  118. 

|  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  136.     This  letter  was  written  October  24th,  1688. 

I  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  507. 


35 

the  King  was  a  sincere,  though  a  superstitious  believer,  was  a 
persecuted  religion ;  to  repeal,  therefore,  those  penal  laws,  which, 
in  punishing  all  Want  of  conformity  with  the  established  Church, 
pressed  so  heavily  on  the  Papists,  became  the  object  of  his  reign. 
The  interests  of  his  religion  compelled  him  to  appear  at  least  to 
believe  in  the  great  principle  of  religious  freedom :  whether  he 
did  so  in  truth  is  certainly  questionable.  Mr.  Macaulay  takes 
great  pains  to  show  that  he  did  not,  that  throughout  he  was  at 
heart  a  bigot,  wanting  the  power  not  the  will  to  rekindle  the  fires 
of  Smithfield.  James's  general  character  certainly  does  not  dis 
prove  this  charge,  nor  again,  on  the  other  side,  do  the  facts  of 
history  prove  it,  for  the  persecutions  of  the  Dissenters  during  the 
early  part  of  his  reign  might  have  arisen  not  so  much  from  reli 
gious  as  political  hatred  to  the  party  which  had  sent  his  father 
to  the  scaffold  and  himself  into  exile,  and  was  even  then  in  actual 
rebellion  or  undisguised  opposition  against  his  prerogative.  Pro 
bably  his  exact  motives  will  never  be  ascertained,  nor  is  it  of 
importance  that  they  should  be ;  enough  for  our  purpose,  that 
Penn  had  good  reason  for  giving  faith  to  his  professions,  for,  so 
far  as  his  own  experience  went,  he  had  proved  their  sincerity. 
"Whatever  practices  of  Roman  Catholics  we  might,"  he  says,  in 
his  letter  to  Popple,  "  reasonably  object  against,  and  no  doubt  but 
"  such  there  are,  yet  he  (the  King)  has  disclaimed  and  repre- 
"  hended  these  ill  things  by  his  declared  opinion  against  persecu- 
"  tion,  by  the  ease  in  which  he  actually  indulges  all  Dissenters, 
"  and  by  the  confirmation  he  offers  in  Parliament  for  the  security 
"of  the  Protestant  religion  and  liberty  of  conscience.  And  in 
"  his  honour,  as  well  as  in  my  own  defence,  I  am  obliged  in  con- 
"  science  to  say  that  he  has  ever  declared  to  me,  it  was  his  opi- 
"nion,  and  on  all  occasions  when  Duke,  he  never  refused  me  the 
"  repeated  proofs  of  it,  as  often  as  I  had  any  poor  sufferer  for 
"  conscience  sake  to  solicit  his  help  for." 

But  even  had  Penn  doubted  the  King's  word,  which  plainly  he 
had  no  reason  to  do,  he  would  have  acted  very  foolishly  not  to 
have  turned  it  to  advantage,  for  his  cause  wanted  all  the  help  it 
could  gain.  By  an  accident,  as  it  were,  the  ruling  party  was  for 
him,  but  its  tenure  of  power  \vas  uncertain,  depending  solely  on 
the  King's  rule,  and  against  him  were  combined  the  two  great 
parties,  between  whom  had  hitherto  alternated  all  political  sway. 
The  High  Church  Tory  supported  the  penal  laws,  because  he 


30 

thought  it  his  duty  to  persecute  both  Papist  and  Puritan;  the 
Puritan  Whig  wished  indeed  to  repeal  them  for  his  own  sect,  but 
to  continue  them  for  the  Catholic,  for  though  now  under  oppres 
sion  himself,  the  traditions  of  Quakers  imprisoned  during  the 
Commonwealth,  and  still  later  of  Catholics  hunted  to  death  at  the 
cry  of  Gates  and  his  pack  of  informers,  were  memories  too  plea 
sant  to  induce  him  to  forego  all  hope  of  oppressing  others.  What, 
then,  was  the  course  for  a  man  to  take,  who,  like  Penn,  was 
anxious  to  secure  to  all  his  fellow-subjects  the  freedom  which  he 
claimed  for  himself?  He  could  join  neither  of  the  parties  in  op 
position  ;  he  knew  them  both  too  well ;  he  himself  owed  a  close 
confinement  in  the  tower  to  a  bishop,  and  not  ten  years  before 
he  had  been  forced  to  protest  against  laws  made  "  by  the  Whig 
"Parliament"  against  Papists,  but  unjustly  turned  against  his 
friends,*  at  which  time  also  he  would  remember  that  the  Puritans 
in  New  England  had  proved  what  he  might  expect  from  puritan 
rule,  for  "persecution,"  says  Sewell,  "being  then  (1677)  hot  in 
"  Old  England,  it  made  those  in  New  England  the  worse,  inso- 
"  much  that  they  did  not  only  whip  the  Quakers  that  were  there, 
"  but  also  some  masters  of  ships  that  were  no  Quakers,  only  for 
"  bringing  some  of  that  persuasion  thither."f  Plainly,  then,  his 
part  was  to  do  precisely  what  he  did  do,  namely,  first  to  support 
the  King  in  his  efforts  to  give  present  freedom  of  opinion,  and 
then  to  do  his  utmost  to  secure  this  freedom  for  the  future,  by 
basing  it  not  upon  the  caprice  or  life  of  the  sovereign,  but  the 
firm  foundation  of  a  law  secured  by  the  concurrence  of  the  peo 
ple,  expressed  by  Parliament.  To  gain  this  concurrence  he 
struggled  hard,  by  appealing  to  the  common  sense  of  the  nation, 
and  to  the  true  interests  of  all  parties,  for  doing  which  he  reaped 
the  unfailing  reward  of  interference  with  prejudice,  abuse  from 
them  all ;  but,  though  accused  often  enough  by  an  "  undiscerning 
"  multitude  of  being  a  papist,  nay,  a  Jesuit,"!  and  suspected  even 
by  such  men  as  Hough  of  a  wish  to  subvert  the  Protestant 
Church,  the  one  charge  was  as  true  as  the  other,  and  his  assail 
ants  may  be  defied  to  produce  evidence  that  he  either  advised  or 
supported  any  attack  by  the  King  on  the  religion  or  rights  or 
property  of  his  subjects. 

*  Life  prefixed  to  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  117.  t  Sewell,  p.  567. 

T  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  506. 


37 

So  far  from  desiring  to  supplant  Protestant  by  Papal  supre 
macy,  his  writings  abundantly  prove  that  he  always  felt  and  ad 
vocated  the  necessity  of  providing  against  the  possibility  of  such 
change. 

In  a  pamphlet*  he  published  in  1679,  he  dwelt  much  on  the 
distinction  which  their  obedience  to  the  foreign  power  of  the 
Pope  made  between  the  Catholic  and  the  Protestant  Dissenter, 
and  in  1687,  during  the  heat  of  the  ferment  caused  by  the  Royal 
measures,  in  his  "Good  Advice  to  the  Church  of  England, 
"  Roman  Catholic,  and  Protestant  Dissenter,  in  which  it  is 
"  endeavoured  to  be  made  appear  that  it  is  their  Duty,  Principle, 
"  and  Interest,  to  abolish  the  Penal  Laws  and  Tests,"f  he  de 
clares  positively  that  "  a  toleration,  and  no  more,  is  that  which 
"  all  Romanists  ought  to  be  satisfied  with."!  In  fact,  every  word 
in  his  writings  confirms  the  statement  in  Hough's  letter,  that 
though  he  was  in  advance  of  his  age  even  so  far  as  to  conceive 
that  the  members  of  the  Church  of  England  should  not  alone  be 
"  capable  of  giving  their  children  a  learned  education,"  yet  he 
"  always  declared  his  opinion  that  the  preferments  of  the  Church 
"  should  not  be  put  into  any  other  hands  but  such  as  they  at  pre- 
"  sent  are  in."  Sewell's  testimony  to  the  same  effect  has  already 
been  quoted ;  viz.,  that  though  he  "  endeavoured  to  get  the  Penal 
"  Laws  and  Test  abrogated,"  he  yet  thought  "  it  possible  to  find 
"out  a  way  whereby  to  limit  the  Papists  so  effectually  that  they 
"  should  not  be  able  to  prevail."§ 

Nor  even  in  that  most  difficult  question  of  the  Declaration  of 
Indulgence  can  Penn's  conduct  fairly  be  blamed.  That  famous 
act,  the  persistance  in  which  was  the  immediate  cause  of  James's 
loss  of  his  crown,  may  be  designated  as  an  attempt  to  attain  a 
good  end  by  bad  means.  The  penal  laws  were  a  disgrace  to 
the  Statute-book,  and  a  grievous  oppression  to  many  of  his  sub 
jects.  James  suspended  them,  but  without  the  consent  of  his 
Parliament,  by  a  simple  exertion  of  his  prerogative.  Liberty  of 
conscience,  therefore,  was  obtained  by  an  unconstitutional  en 
croachment  on  the  liberty  of  the  subject.  It  was  received  by 
the  members  of  the  Church,  both  lay  and  clerical,  with  universal 
terror  and  indignation  ;  the  Dissenters  were  divided  as  to  its 
reception ;  some  feared  and  suspected  the  giver  too  much  to 

*  Project  for  the  good  of  England.     Works,  vol.  i.,  pp.  682  to  691. 

t  Works,  vol.  ii.,  p.  749.  t  Idem,  vol.  ii.,  p.  768.  §  Idem,  p.  606. 


38 

thank  him  for  his  boon,  which  others  hailed,  regardless  of  the 
motive  which  might  have  induced  him  to  offer  it.  Penn  was 
among  the  grateful  ones.  "  Our  sufferings,"  he  said,  in  present 
ing  the  Quakers'  address,  "  would  have  moved  stones  to  compas- 
"  sion,  so  we  should  be  harder  if  we  were  not  moved  to  grati- 
"  tude."*  For  feeling  and  expressing  this  gratitude  he  incurs  the 
reproach  of  Mr.  Macaulay,  but  a  little  consideration  will  show 
how  strange  it  would  have  been  if  he  had  acted  otherwise.  Mr. 
Macaulay  himself  acknowledges  that  when  the  King  thus  tried 
to  bribe  the  Nonconformists  to  aid  him,  the  Church  suddenly 
became  tolerant,  and  sought  to  outbid  him,f  offering  them  legal 
toleration,  a  Parliamentary  indulgence,  provided  they  would  help 
to  maintain  the  enactments  against  the  Catholics.  To  many  of 
the  Dissenters  the  offer  of  the  Church  was  the  most  tempting ; 
their  hatred  to  Rome,  their  suspicion  of  the  King's  sincerity, 
their  distrust  of  his  power,  all  induced  them  to  accept  it;  but 
very  different  motives  would  influence  Penn :  his  earnest  desire 
was  not  to  persecute  but  to  tolerate  the  Papist ;  he  had,  as  has 
been  stated  above,  no  ground  to  suspect  the  King,  but  he  had 
good  ground  to  fear  the  Church,  for  he  had  suffered  from  its 
power,  arid  to  suspect  its  offer,  for  he  could  not  be  sure  that  his 
friends  would  benefit  by  it.  Cavaliers  and  Roundheads,  Whig 
and  Tory  Parliaments,  had  each  proved  their  hostility  to  the 
Quakers,  how  then  could  he  trust  that  an  act  passed  by  an  union 
between  Whigs  and  Tories  would  not  exclude  his  clients  from 
relief?  Can  we  then  wonder  that,  to  so  uncertain  a  future  hope, 
he  preferred  a  certain  present  gain  ? 

Surely,  if  Mr.  Macaulay  had  recalled  to  his  memory  the  vast 
difference  which  the  Puritan  persecution  of  the  Quakers  made, 
as  he  had  himself  previously  shown, J  between  their  position  and 
that  of  the  other  Dissenters,  he  would  not,  in  order  to  explain 
Penn's  support  of  a  measure  which  gave  his  friends  the  justice 
they  could  expect  no  where  else,  be  compelled  to  imagine  that 
"  the  life  which  he  had  been  leading  during  two  years  had  not  a 
"  little  impaired  his  moral  sensibility."§ 

Seeing,  therefore,  what  was  his  experience  of  the  mercy  and 
justice  of  Parliaments  —  the  laws  which  had  been  passed  in  the 
last  reign,  and  that  even  during  this,  the  petition  to  Parliament 

*  Scwell,  p.  609.  t  Macaulay,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  219  to  222. 

t  Macaulay,  vol.  i.,  p.  503.  §  Macaulay,  vol.  ii.,  p.  224. 


39 

for  his  captive  brethren  had  been  of  no  avail,  while  that  to  the 
King  had  resulted  in  their  freedom,  "  his  conscience"  could 
scarcely  have  "  reproached  him"*  if  he  had  supported  his  Sove 
reign  in  his  defence  of  the  constitution,  for  what  to  him  was  a 
constitution  which  punished  him  for  worshipping  his  God  ? 

But  even  this  he  did  not  do :  he  not  only  did  not  uphold  the 
King  in  any  attempt  to  rule  without  the  aid  of  Parliament,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  he  throughout  advised  him  against  such  a  course. 
This  fact  is  not  alluded  to  by  Mr.  Macaulay,  though  twice  stated 
by  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  to  whose  authority  he  generally  pays 
the  attention  it  deserves.  "  Penn,"  says  Mackintosh,!  quoting 
Johnstone's  correspondence  of  6th  February,  1688,  "desired  a 
"  Parliament,  as  the  only  mode  of  establishing  toleration  without 
"  subverting  the  laws."  Again  he  says,  that  after  the  second 
proclamation  of  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence,  (April,  1688,)  he 
"  desired  a  Parliament,  from  a  hope  that,  if  the  convocation  were 
"  not  too  long  delayed,  it  might  produce  a  compromise,  in  which 
"  the  King  might,  for  the  time,  be  contented  with  an  universal 
"  toleration  of  worship." J  The  wording  of  the  address  he  pre 
sented  of  the  yearly  meeting  of  Quakers  confirms  this  view,  in 
asmuch  as,  while  thanking  the  King  for  his  "  Christian  Declara 
tion  for  Liberty  of  Conscience,"  "it  looks  forward  to  such  a 
"  concurrence  from  Parliament  as  may  secure  it  to  their  pos- 
"  terity  in  after  times."§  "  'Tis  plain,  therefore,"  says  Besse,  in 

*  Macaulay,  vol.  ii.,  p.  224.  t  Mackintosh,  p.  219.  t  Idem,  p.  241. 

§  Life  prefixed  to  Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  130.  As  this  address  is  probably  one  of  those 
which  Mr.  M.  alludes  to  as  "  fulsomely  servile,"  (vol.  ii.,  p.  225,)  it  is  here  given, 
in  order  that  the  reader  may  judge  how  far  this  epithet  is  applicable. 

Tim  ADDRESS. 

To  King  JAMES  the  Second  over  England,  &c. 
The  Humble  and  Grateful  Acknowledgment  of  His  Peaceable   Subjects   called 

QUAKERS,  in  this  Kingdom. 
From  their  usual  Yearly  Meeting  in  London,  the  Nineteenth  Day  of  the  Third 

Month,  vulgarly  called  May,  1687. 

We  cannot  but  bless  and  praise  the  name  of  Almighty  God,  who  hath  the  hearts 
of  princes  in  his  hand,  that  he  hath  inclined  the  King  to  hear  the  cries  of  his  suf 
fering  subjects  for  conscience  sake  :  And  we  rejoice  that  instead  of  troubling  him 
with  complaints  of  our  sufferings,  he  hath  given  us  so  eminent  an  occasion  to  pre 
sent  him  with  our  thanks :  And  since  it  hath  pleased  the  King,  out  of  his  great 
compassion,  thus  to  commiserate  our  afflicted  condition,  which  hath  so  particularly 
appeared  by  his  gracious  proclamation  and  warrants  last  year,  whereby  twelve 
hundred  prisoners  were  released  from  their  severe  imprisonments,  and  many  others 
from  spoil  and  ruin  in  their  estates  and  properties ;  and  his  princely  speech  in 


40 

his  Life,  prefixed  to  Perm's  Works,  "  they,  the  Quakers,  grate- 
"  fully  accepted  of  the  suspension  of  the  penal  laws  by  the  King's 
"  prerogative,  (as  who  in  their  case  would  not  ?)  a  thing  in  itself 
"just  and  reasonable,  in  hopes  of  having  the  same  afterwards  con- 
"  firmed  by  the  legislative  authority,  there  being  at  that  time 
"  much  talk  of  an  approaching  Parliament,  and  that  their  expec- 
"  tation  centred  not  in  the  King's  dispensing  power  is  evident  by 
"  our  author's  continuing  his  endeavours  to  show  the  necessity  of 
"  abolishing  the  penal  laws,  for  soon  after  this  he  writ  a  large 
"  tract,  called  '  Good  Advice  to  the  Church  of  England,'  "  &c.* 

One  word  more  about  this  Declaration  of  Indulgence :  Mr. 
Macaulay  says  Penn  tried  to  gain  William's  assent  to  it,  "  sent 
"  copious  disquisitions  to  the  Hague,  and  even  \vent  there,  in  the 
"  hope  that  his  eloquence,  of  which  he  had  a  high  opinion,  would 
"  prove  irresistible."!  All  this  is  gratuitous  assumption,  for  which 
indeed  the  author  quotes  Burnet,  but  had  he  read  him,  he  would 
see  that  Penn's  argument  with  the  PrinceJ  was  about  the  aboli 
tion  of  the  Test,  and  that  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence  was  not 
then  named,  nor  is  it  mentioned  till  several  pages  afterwards,^ 
and  had  he  condescended  to  glance  at  Clarksori's  Life,  he  would 
have  learnt  that  this  journey  to  the  Continent,  which,  by  the  way, 
was  a  religious  mission  to  both  Holland  and  Germany,  was 
during  the  year  1686,  while  the  Declaration,  it  is  well  known, 
was  not  in  existence  till  April,  1687.  Had  he  also  observed  the 

council,  and  Christian  declaration  for  liberty  of  conscience,  in  which  he  doth  not 
only  express  his  aversion  to  all  force  upon  conscience,  and  grant  all  his  dissenting 
subjects  an  ample  liberty  to  worship  God,  in  the  way  they  are  persuaded  is  most 
agreeable  to  his  will,  but  gives  them  his  Kingly  word  the  same  shall  continue 
during  his  reign ;  we  do  (as  our  friends  of  this  city  have  already  done)  render  the 
King  our  humble,  Christian,  and  thankful  acknowledgments,  not  only  in  behalf  of 
ourselves,  but  with  respect  to  our  friends  throughout  England  and  Wales.  And 
pray  God  with  all  our  hearts  to  bless  and  preserve  thee,  O  King,  and  those  under 
thee,  in  so  good  a  work :  And  as  we  can  assure  the  King  it  is  well  accepted  in 
the  several  counties  from  whence  we  came,  so  we  hope  the  good  effects  thereof,  for 
the  peace,  trade,  and  prosperity  of  the  kingdom,  will  produce  such  a  concurrence 
from  the  Parliament,  as  may  secure  it  to  our  posterity  in  after-times :  And  while 
we  live,  it  shall  be  our  endeavour  (through  God's  grace)  to  demean  ourselves,  as  in 
conscience  to  God,  and  duty  to  the  King,  we  are  oblig'd, 

His  peaceable,  loving,  and  faithful  subjects. 

*  Life  prefixed  to  Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  131.     (1726.) 

t  Macaulay,  vol.  ii.,  p.  234. 

i  Burnet's  Own  Times,  vol.  i.,  p.  693.     (Ed.  1724.) 

§  Idem,  p.  714. 


41 

following  passage,  in  one  of  those  letters  from  Van  Citters,  the 
Dutch  ambassador,  from  which  he  so  often  quotes,  which  proves 
that  Penn's  eloquence  was  exerted  the  year  before  the  Declara 
tion,  and  simply  in  regard  to  toleration,  he  would,  though  losing 
an  opportunity  for  a  sneer  at  the  Quaker,  have  been  saved  from 
so  glaring  a  chronological  mistake : — "  With  regard  to  the  point 
"  of  toleration,"  writes  Van  Citters,  Westminster,  26Nov.  1686,  "  it 
"  is  reported  here  that  both  his  Highness  and  my  Lady  the  Prin- 
**  cess  have  declared  in  favour  of  it,  and  that  this  will  be  reported 
"  in  the  next  Parliament,  and  that  they  have  discoursed  at  length 
"  thereon  with  the  well-known  Pen,  the  arch  Quaker,  who  is 
"  Governor  of  Pennsylvania,  and  have  declared  themselves  to 
"  this  extent  on  that  subject."* 

The  reader  will  now  be  able  to  judge  how  far  the  epithet  "  in- 
"  temperate,"!  applied  by  Mr.  Macaulay  to  Penn's  labours  for  re 
ligious  liberty,  is  warranted  by  the  history  of  his  conduct.  Not 
only  does  that  history  give  no  evidence  that  he  abetted  the  Court 
in  any  act  of  cruelty  or  injustice,  or  conspired  with  it  in  any  plot 
to  rob  the  Church  or  establish  tyranny,  but  it  does  give  evidence 
that  he  opposed  both  such  special  acts  and  such  general  policy. 
His  remonstrance  with  the  King  against  his  attempt  to  despoil 

*  "  Aan  Syn  Hoogheyt  et  den  Raedpensionaris  Van  Hollant. 
Westminster   den,  2g  J^v  1686. 

Aengaende  het  point  der  Tollerantie  wert  hier  nu  opently  voorgegeven,  dat  soo 
syn  Hoogheyt  als  Mevrouw  de  Princes  haer  daer  voeren  souden  verclaert  hebben, 
en  dat  men  in  het  aenstaende  Parlement  dat  mede  soo  debiteren  zal,  en  dat  hoogst- 
gedaghte  syn  hoogheyt  met  den  bekenden  Pen  die  Archiquaecker,  wie  patron  is 
van  Pensilvania  in  America,  daerover  in  't  lange  soude  gesproken  hebben,  en  den- 
selve  hem  dien  aengaende  diermatcn,  soude  verclaert  hebben." — Van  Citters' 
Letter,  Dutch  Archives. 

t  Macaulay,  vol.  ii.,  p.  241.  This  charge  of  intemperance  had  been  made 
against  Penn  in  his  life-time,  and  his  spirited  defence  is  worth  quoting : — Some 
"nameless  author  had  charged  him  with  showing  in  the  late  reign  an  intemperate 
zeal  for  a  boundless  liberty  of  conscience.  Not  more  intemperate,"  he  replied,  "  in 
the  reign  that  favoured  it  than  in  the  reign  I  contended  with  that  did  not  favour  it 
And  no  man  but  a  persecutor,  which  I  count  a  beast  of  prey,  and  a  declared  enemy 
to  mankind,  can,  without  great  injustice  or  ingratitude,  reproach  that  part  I  had  in 
King  James's  court;  for  I  think  I  may  say  without  vanity,  upon  this  provocation, 
I  endeavoured  at  least  to  do  some  good,  at  my  own  cost,  and  would  have  been  glad 
to  have  done  more.  I  am  very  sure  I  intended,  and  I  think  I  did  harm  to  none, 
neither  parties  nor  private  persons,  my  own  family  excepted,  for  which  I  doubt  not 
the  author's  pardon,  since  he  shows  himself  so  little  concerned  for  the  master  of 
it."— Life  prefixed  to  Works,  p.  142. 


42 

Magdalen  College  has  been  stated  above— his  desire  that  he  should 
not  dispense  with  Parliament  has  just  been  mentioned.  Johnstone, 
moreover,  in  his  Correspondence,*  expressly  states  that  he  advised 
against  the  most  despotic  of  James's  deeds,  that  order  to  the 
clergy  to  read  the  Declaration,  which  resulted  in  the  committal 
of  the  Bishops  to  the  Tower ;  and,  as  to  his  general  policy,  wre 
have  in  his  favour  the  testimony  of  two  most  unexceptionable 
authorities,  both  of  them  cotemporary,  and  both  devoted  to  the 
Protestant  cause.  Lord  Clarendon  informs  us,  in  his  Diary,f  that 
he  laboured  to  thwart  the  Jesuitical  influence  that  predominated 
in  James's  reign,  and  of  this  there  is  most  full  confirmation  in  a 
letter  from  Van  Citters,  deposited  in  the  State  Paper  Archives  at 
the  Hague,  in  which  he  writes  to  the  Prince  of  Orange  as  fol 
lows  : — "  One  of  these  days  the  well-known  Arch  Quaker  Penn 
"  had  a  long  interview  with  the  King,  and,  as  lie  has  told  one  of 
"  his  friends,  has,  he  thinks,  shown  to  the  King  that  the  Parlia- 
"  ment  would  never  consent  to  the  revocation  of  the  Test  and 
"  Penal  Laws,  and  that  he  never  would  get  a  Parliament  to  his 
"  mind  so  long  as  he  would  not  go  to  work  with  greater  modera- 
"  tion,  and  drive  away  from  his  presence,  or  at  least  not  listen  to 
"  these  immoderate  Jesuits,  and  other  Papists,  who  surround  him 
"  daily,  and  whose  immoderate  advice  he  now  follows."J 

This  letter  was  written  some  time  after  the  proclamation  of  the 
indulgence  (July,  1687,)  by  a  man  whose  business  it  was  to  learn 
the  character  and  sentiments  of  every  person  of  influence  in  the 

*  Johnstone,  23d  May,  1688.  This  is  another  fact,  which,  though  quoted  by 
Sir  James  Mackintosh  (p.  241,)  is  not  adverted  to  by  Mr.  Macaulay.  See  also 
another  "  cotemporary  authority,  in  Mr.  Lawton's  Memoir  of  William  Penn,  in 
Mem.  Pen.  Hist.  Soc.,  vol,  iii.  part  ii.,  pages  230,  231,"  quoted  in  Bancroft's  Hist 
of  United  States,  vol.  ii.,  p.  397  n. :  "  Penn  was  against  the  commitment  of  the 
Bishops."  "  He  pressed  the  King  exceedingly  to  set  them  at  liberty." 

t  June  23,  1688. 

t  "  Aan  Syn  Hoogheyt  &  Raedpensionaris  van  Hollant. 

Windsor  den,  ^  July,  1687. 

Dezer  dagen  was  den  bekenden  Archiquaecker  Pen  zeer  lange  by  den  Coning, 
en  soo  hy  aen  een  syner  vrienden  verhaelt  heeft  soude,  soo  hy  meynt,  aen  S.  M. 
vertoont  hebben,  dat  het  Parlement  noyt  tot  vernietieginge  van  den  Test  en  Poenale 
Wetten  sal  willen  verstaen  ook  noyt  een  Parlement  tot  syn  sin  krygen,  soo  hy  met 
geen  meerder  moderatie  wil  te  werk  gaen  en  van  hem  eloigneren,  immers  soo  verre 
geen  gehoor  geven,  die  immoderate  Jesuyten  en  Andere  Papisten  die  dagelyks  om 
hem  zyn  en  wiens  immoderate  Concilia  hy  nu  opvolgt." —  Van  Cillers'1  Letter, 
Dutch  Archives. 


43 

Court,  and  who  had  the  best  opportunity  for  getting  at  the  truth ; 
and  it  is  therefore  somewhat  strange  that  Mr.  Macaulay,  though 
he  acknowledges*  the  great  assistance  he  has  obtained  from  the 
perusal  of  his  despatches,  has  so  entirely  neglected  in  this  case 
also  to  make  use  of  the  information  they  afford. 

If,  then,  truth-telling  loyalty  to  his  Sovereign,  and  honest  gra 
titude  to  his  benefactor  —  if  earnest  endeavours  to  rescue  his 
brethren  from  oppression,  and  to  free  the  consciences  of  his  fellow 
subjects,  were  acts  of  intemperance,  then  was  Penn's  conduct 
"  intemperate"  evidence  that  a  Court  had  "  impaired  his  moral 
"  sensibility ;"  and  if  the  preaching  of  principles  which  were  not 
practised,  because  too  pure  for  his  age,  was  a  folly,  then  did  his 
political  life  give  "  proof  that  he  was  not  a  man  of  strong  sense;" 
but  if  such  be  Mr.  Macaulay's  rule  of  judgment,  he  must  excuse 
his  readers  if  they  apply  it  to  himself.  The  temptation  is  irre 
sistible  to  appeal  from  the  historian  to  the  politician,  and  to  ask 
him  whether  "  his  conscience  reproaches"  him  for  his  eloquence 
in  behalf  of  freedom  of  thought  —  whether  he  looks  back  with 
regret,  as  upon  youthful  indiscretions,  upon  any  attempts  which 
he  may  have  made  to  aid  his  country  in  its  progress — to  improve 
the  imperfect  present  by  holding  out  the  ideal  future  1 

True  it  is  that  Penn's  efforts  were  unsuccessful — that  the  King, 
turning  a  deaf  ear  to  his  counsel,  was  hurled  from  his  throne — 
that  Catholic  and  Dissenter,  disregarding  his  "  Good  Advice,"  his 
"  Persuasive  to  Moderation,"  riveted  each  of  them  his  own  chains 
in  striving  to  fasten  them  on  the  neck  of  the  other,  and  so  the 
one  kept  his  Penal  Laws  and  the  other  his  Test  Act,  and  for  a 
time  Penn's  policy  was  a  failure,  or  rather  its  accomplishment 
was  delayed — until,  by  abolishing  the  Test  and  emancipating  the 
Catholics,  Mr.  Macaulay  and  his  friends  succeeded  in  putting  his 
theories  into  practice. 

Yes,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  to  fulfil  the  visions  of  that  vain 
foolish  Quaker  have  been,  ever  since  his  death,  the  aim,  the  glory, 
of  our  best  and  wisest  statesmen.  Like  as  the  citizens  of  Phila 
delphia  are  even  now  building  the  streets  which  he  planned  on 
the  unpeopled  waste,  so  are  the  workmen  in  the  temple  of  free 
dom  yet  labouring  at  the  design  which  he  sketched  out.  Possibly 
his  notions  were  dreams,  but  if  so,  they  were  at  least  dreams 

*  Macaulay,  vol.  i.,  p.  440. 


44 

which  Mr.  Macaulay  would  be  proud  to  be  told  he  had  spent  his 
political  life  in  the  effort  to  realize. 

There  now  remains  for  notice  only  one  charge,  or  rather  one 
statement  needing  examination — for  it  can  scarcely  be  considered 
a  charge — viz.,  the  assertion,  that  "  the  Friends"  disapproved  of 
his  conduct,  that  "  even  his  own  sect  looked  coldly  on  him,  and 
"  requited  his  services  with  obloquy."*  Whether  this  statement 
be  a  fact  or  not  is  a  matter  of  but  little  importance,  for  Quakers 
not  being  infallible,  their  good  opinion  of  a  line  of  policy  is  by  no 
means  necessary  for  its  defence.  It  certainly  is  not  improbable 
that  Penn  may  have  had  "  notions  more  correct  than  were  in  his 
"  day  common,"  even  among  "  the  Friends,"  and  that  they  also 
may  have  paid  to  his  superior  enlightenment  its  usual  reward  of 
obloquy,  but,  for  their  credit  more  than  his,  it  is  but  fair  to  state 
that  this  assertion  also  is  carelessly  if  not  groundlessly  made. 

Mr.  Macaulay's  authority  is  Gerard  Croese,  but  he,  it  must  be 
remembered,  did  not  belong  to  the  Quakers  himself,  nor  has  his 
book  ever  been  acknowledged  by  them  as  a  fair  and  exact  his 
tory,  and  therefore  his  testimony  as  to  the  opinion  of  their  sect 
is  of  no  value,  compared  with  that  of  their  own  accredited  histo 
rians,  Sewell,  Besse,  and  Gough.f  The  favourable  sentiments 
of  the  two  first-named  of  these  writers,  whose  means  of  getting 
information  were  far  superior  to  any  Croese  can  have  possessed, 
have  already  been  quoted,  and  Gough  writes  to  the  same  effect  : 
and,  indeed,  Mr.  Macaulay  would  not,  it  may  confidently  be 
stated,  be  able  to  find,  either  in  the  records  of  the  Society  of 
Friends,  or  in  any  work  allowed  to  be  a  fair  expression  of  its 
views,  or  in  the  journals  of  any  of  its  leading  members,  any  pas 
sage  which  would  support  his  insinuation,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
Penn  is  in  these  documents  always  spoken  of  in  terms  which 
prove  that  the  "  society  of  which  he  was  a  member"  loved  and 
respected  him,  or,  interpreting  their  sober  reverence  into  Mr. 
Macaulay's  bold  and  somewhat  exaggerated  language,  "  honoured 
"  him  as  an  apostle." 

It  is  possible,  indeed,  that,  inasmuch  as  the  early  Friends  looked 
upon  themselves  as  a  peculiar  people  set  apart  to  be  the  special 
servants  of  Him  whose  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,  some  of 
them  may  have  looked  with  uneasiness  on  his  exertions  in  the 

*  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  506. 

t  Gough's  History  of  the  Quakers,  vol.  iii.  p.  179 ;  vol.  iv.  pp.  177  to  179. 


45 

service  of  his  country;  but  even  of  such  uneasiness  there  is  no 
sufficient  proof,  and  had  there  been,  his  character  would  be  no 
ways  affected.  Enough,  that  the  form  of  his  religion,  his  feel 
ings  as  a  Quaker,  did  not  seem  to  him  to  interfere  with  the  ful 
filment  of  his  duty  as  a  citizen.  Had  it  done  so,  that  form  would 
have  been  changed  rather  than  his  work  left  undone,  for  he  was 
not  a.  man  who  could  make  one  duty  an  excuse  for  shirking  an 
other  :  within  his  conscience  there  was  no  conflict  between  the 
claims  of  religion  and  patriotism :  he  did  not  fly  from  the  world, 
but  faced  it  with  true  words  and  true  deeds,  as  one  who,  as  he 
said  himself  when,  during  the  storm  of  persecution,  he  rebuked  a 
powerful  persecutor,  "was  above  the  fear  of  man,  whose  breath 
"  is  in  his  nostrils,  and  must  one  day  come  to  judgment,  because 
"  he  only  feared  the  living  God,  that  made  the  heavens  and  the 
"  earth."*  This  reverential  fear  of  God — this  it  was  that  made 
him  fearless  of  man,  that  gave  him  "  integrity"  to  "  stand  firm 
"  against  obloquy  and  persecution,"  and  not  against  them  alone, 
but  gave  him  power  over  himself,  strength  to  resist  temptations 
from  within  as  well  as  to  sustain  violence  from  without;  for  it 
must  be  borne-  in  mind,  that  he  was  not  one  of  those  who  take 
to  piety  only  when  wearied  of  pleasure,  ceasing  to  pluck  the  rose 
because  they  have  been  pricked  by  its  thorns.  This  "  strong  sense 
"of  religious  duty"  was  not  his  because  his  other  senses  were 
weak,  or  because  he  had  satiated  them ;  nor  did  he  refrain  from 
enlisting  himself  in  the  service  of  God  till  he  had  proved  Mam 
mon  to  be  a  hard  master,  but,  in  the  strength  of  his  passions,  he 
controlled  them :  in  the  spring-time  of  life,  when  the  prizes  of 
pleasure  and  ambition  were  before  him,  he  chose  the  path  of  self- 
denial,  and  walked  in  it  to  the  end.  Hear  his  own  simple  and 
touching  account  of  the  experiences  of  his  youth,  as  he  thought 
it  right  to  relate  them  to  some  God-fearing  men  whom  he  met 
with  in  his  travels,  in  order,  as  he  said,  that  "  those  who  were 
"  come  to  any  measure  of  a  divine  sense"  might  be  "  as  looking 
-glasses  to  each  other,  as  face  answereth  face  in  a  glass."! 
"  Here  I  began  to  let  them  know,"  he  says,  "  how  and  when  the 
"  Lord  first  appeared  unto  me  (anno  1656,)  which  was  about  the 
"  twelfth  year  of  my  age ;  how  at  times,  betwixt  that  and  the  fif- 

*  Letter  to  Vice  Chancellor  of  Oxford :  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  155. 
t  Life  prefixed  to  Works,  p.  92. 


46 

"  teenth,  the  Lord  visited  me,  and  the  divine  impressions  he  gave 
"me  of  himself;  of  my  persecution  at  Oxford,  and  how  the  Lord 
"  sustained  me  in  the  midst  of  that  hellish  darkness  and  debauch- 
"  ery ;  of  my  being  banished  the  College ;  the  bitter  usage  I  un- 
"  derwent  when  I  returned  to  my  father :  whipping,  beating,  and 
"turning  out  of  doors  in  1662;  of  the  Lord's  dealings  with  me 
"  in  France,  and  in  the  time  of  the  Great  Plague  in  London :  in 
"  fine,  the  deep  sense  he  gave  me  of  the  vanity  of  this  world,  of 
"  the  irreligiousness  of  the  religions  of  it.  Then,  of  my  mournful 
"  and  bitter  cries  to  him,  that  he  would  show  me  His  own  way 
"  of  life  and  salvation,  and  my  resolutions  to  follow  him,  whatever 
"  reproaches  or  sufferings  should  attend  me,  and  that  with  great 
"  reverence  and  brokenness  of  spirit.  How,  after  all  this,  the 
"  glory  of  the  world  overtook  me,  and  I  was  even  ready  to  give 
"  up  myself  unto  it,  seeing  as  yet  no  such  thing  as  the  Primitive 
"  Spirit  and  Church  on  the  earth,  and  being  ready  to  faint  con- 
"  cerning  my  hope  of  the  restitution  of  all  things,"  had  not  "  at 
"  this  time  the  Lord  visited  me  with  a  certain  sound  and  testi- 
"  mony  of  His  eternal  word,  through  one  of  these  the  world  calls 
"  Quakers,  namely,  Thomas  Loe."  And  then  "  I  related  to  them 
"  the  bitter  mockings  and  scornings  that  fell  upon  me,  the  dis- 
"  pleasure  of  my  parents,  the  invectiveness  and  cruelty  of  the 
"  priests,  the  strangeness  of  all  my  companions ;  what  a  sign  and 
"  wonder  they  made  of  me ;  but  above  all,  that  great  cross  of 
"  resisting  and  watching  against  mine  own  inward  vain  affections 
"  and  thoughts." 

And  this  son  of  a  courtier,  who  thus  preferred  a  prison  to  a 
court — who  chose  as  the  companions  of  his  youth,  men,  whose 
very  name  was  a  byeword  of  scorn,*  who  until  his  forty-first 
year  had  led  a  life  of  consistent  self-control,  and  proved  his  sin 
cerity  by  his  sufferings  and  sacrifices,  can  it  be  believed  that  he 
could  have  thus  suddenly  found  his  "  resolution  give  way,"  even 
though  "  courtly  smiles  and  female  blandishments"  had  been 
"  offered"  as  "  bribes  to  his  vanity  ?" 

*  "A  Quaker,"  or  "  some  very  melancholy  thing,"  Pepys  describes  him  in  his 
Diary  (December  29, 1667),  on  his  return  from  Ireland.  "A  very  pleasant  fact,  to 
Pepys,  who  hated  the  Admiral,  and  rejoiced  in  his  perplexities  at  his  son's  religion, 
but,  doubtless,  in  his  eyes,  a  strange  fancy  to  be  taken  by  the  youth,  who,  three 
years  before  (Diary,  August  16, 1664),  "had  come  back  from  France  a  most  modish 
person,  grown,  my  wife  says,  a  fine  gentleman." 


47 

Mr.  Macaulay's  faith  in  human  virtue  must  indeed  have  been 
sorely  tried — his  estimate  of  the  strength  of  religious  duty  must 
be  but  slight — or,  instead  of  suspecting  "the  eminent  virtues  of 
"  such  a  man,"  he  would  have  questioned  the  probability  of  so 
strange  a  fall.  But,  like  most  men  who  are  over-doubting  in  one 
direction,  he  is  too  believing  in  another,  for,  if  he  has  little  faith 
in  the  truth  of  Penn's  professions,  he  has  at  least  a  firm  confi 
dence  in  the  certainty  of  his  own  suspicions  —  if  he  be  sceptical 
of  virtue,  he  compensates  for  it  by  being  credulous  of  vice ;  and 
so,  if  he  refuses  to  listen  to  the  concurrent  testimony  of  "  rival 
"  nations  and  hostile  sects,"  he  yet  gives  full  credence  to  the  in 
sinuations  of  party  prejudice,  and  makes  up  for  his  disbelief  in 
the  general  estimate  of  Penn's  character  by  an  admission  of 
charges,  respecting  which  it  is  hard  to  discover  the  facts  of  which 
they  are  the  distortion. 

But  the  voice  of  history  cannot  be  thus  silenced:  she  has  already 
recorded  her  judgment,  from  which  there  is  no  appeal ;  nor  should 
Mr.  Macaulay  cavil  at  its  justice,  for,  strange  as  it  may  seem  to 
him,  there  is  in  it  no  mystery. 

This  Quaker  was  a  strong  and  a  brave,  and  therefore  a  free 
man :  he  ruled  himself,  and  fearing  God,  feared  no  other ;  and  so 
he  made  posterity  his  debtor,  for,  that  spirit  which  won  freedom 
for  himself,  he  left  to  it  as  a  legacy,  and  there  is  no  fear  that  the 
debt  due  to  him  will  be  unpaid,  so  long  as  the  inheritance  re 
mains. 

The  memory  of  good  men  is  sacred  :  we  treasure  it,  as  we 
value  our  safety  in  the  present — our  hope  for  the  future,  for,  on 
what,  after  all,  depends  our  national  freedom,  of  which  Mr.  Ma 
caulay  so  often  and  so  loudly  vaunts  ? — most  assuredly  not,  as  he 
would  seem  to  think,*  on  the  limitations  of  the  prerogative  of  our 
rulers,  handed  down  to  us  from  our  ancestors,  but  on  that  spirit 
of  individual  justice,  which,  inasmuch  as  it  breathed  in  their 
hearts,  made  that  freedom  both  possible  and  necessary,  of  the 
strength  whereof  these  limitations  were  and  are  the  exact  mea 
sure.  It  is  not  to  the  fact  t/iat  for  ages  past  Englishmen  have 
had  the  habit  of  preventing  their  kings  from  taking  their  money, 
or  making  or  breaking  laws  at  their  pleasure,  that  they  owe  what 

*  Macaulay,  vol.  i.,  chap.  1. 


48 

liberties  they  possess.  These  "three  great  constitutional  prin- 
"  ciples,"*  as  Mr.  Macaulay  calls  them,  are  indeed  the  signs  of 
our  freedom,  their  prevalence  has  been  the  measure  of  its  growth, 
but  to  suppose  them  to  be  its  origin  is  to  commit  the  absurdity 
of  taking  the  effect  for  the  cause.  Individual  self-government, 
that  alone  is  the  cause  of  national  freedom  —  the  source  and 
guarantee  of  the  liberty  of  the  subject  —  for  that  alone  makes 
personal  liberty  compatible  with  social  order ;  and  of  this  power 
of  self-control,  the  force  whereof  gauges  the  freedom  of  all  go 
vernments,  and  without  which  all  constitutions — yes,  even  the 
"glorious  constitution  of  1688"— are  mere  waste-paper,  of  this 
power  the  highest  possible  ideal  is  "  a  strong  sense  of  religious 
"  duty." 

Alas,  then,  for  our  liberties,  if  ever,  as  a  nation,  we  follow  the 
example  of  Mr.  Macaulay,  and  reverence,  in  place  of  this  spirit, 
those  forms  which  are  but  its  expression,  for  then  indeed  will  they 
become  to  us  a  mockery  and  a  stumbling-block,  but  until  we  do 
so,  there  is  no  fear  that  we  shall  forget  that  "  for  the  authority  of 
"  law,  for  the  security  of  property,  for  the  peace  of  our  streets, 
"  for  the  happiness  of  our  homes,  our  gratitude  is  due,"  not  alone 
"  to  the  Long  Parliament,  to  the  Convention,  and  to  William  of 
"Orange,"f — to  them  indeed,  but  if  to  them,  then  also  to  that 
"  mythical  person,"  whose  life,  grotesque  as  may  have  been  its 
garb,  was,  more  than  that  of  any  politician  of  his  day,  the  in 
carnation  of  this  spirit  of  self-control,  and  whose  words  and  deeds 
yet  dwell  within  our  memories  as  witnesses  of  its  power. 

*  Macaulay,  vol.  i.,  p.  29.  t  Macaulay,  concluding  paragraph  of  vol.  ii. 


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